The Mayor of Crashout City has seen it all. She’s heard it all. She’s lived it all. No question is too raunchy and no conundrum too trivial. Submit all questions to the Mayor herself here.
Dear Mayor, the other day, I learned that one of my buddy’s ex-Hinge talking stages was of the opinion that I was remarkably handsome, but me being ran through gave her pause. Whether that reputation is fair or not, true or not, I worry that I’ve developed what Joan Jett might have called a “bad reputation.” I’m worried this will prevent me from finding true love, which I earnestly crave as a desperate romantic. Should I change this reputation? Can I? — A Rake from Ridgewood.
Dear Ridgewood Rake,
My sincere guess is that your slutty reputation is completely fair and of your own making. It seems like there are many holes you’d like to fill, and I urge you to start with the ones within yourself.
Catholicism is hotter than ever; have you considered celibacy? Shock the world! Shake things up! Imagine your buddy’s ex-Hinge talking stage finding out on a date that you’re more than just an easy fuck.
She gets to go back to her friends and say, “You wouldn’t believe it—the Ridgewood Rake is actually not a whore; he’s a maligned, sensitive man who has been slandered by his ops—Isn’t that wonderful?”
It’d be so shocking. Word would travel. You’d have more options than ever. So commit to celibacy. It doesn’t have to be until marriage—just until you clear your roster. And imagine the insane sexual tension you can build… I declare this your Dry Hump Summer — The Mayor
Dear Mayor, lately, I’m worried that I’m drinking too much. How many local bars should one be a “regular” of? When do you know that you’re a regular of too many? Am I going to Birdy’s too often? — Slouchin’ Toward The Johnson’s
Dear Slouchin’,
You should be a regular at exactly four bars.
Your Sacred Dive: You should have one bar you never take other people to. The bartenders love you; there are five other regulars and they’re all old men, aside from one woman who is incredible at pool; and you’re being slung so many free drinks that the tip is always bigger than the tab. In the rare chance you take a friend, your companion should know to never show their face there without you. This is your Cheers bar. You are not a customer, but a fixture. You are the bar itself. I will not be giving recommendations here—It is yours to find.
Your Classic Hang: This is where you bring all your friends. It may sound like it could be your Sacred Dive too, but the vast majority of people you drink with there are part of your actual life. This is probably where Birdy’s (1215 Myrtle Ave.) falls. Pretty straightforward.
Your Primo Date Spot: I take all my first dates to the same bar without fail: Aunt Ginny’s (6-52 Woodward Ave.). It’s dim, not too loud, incredibly casual and the Big Ass Margarita is slightly stronger than it should be. That this place is endlessly familiar and sexually charged in a Pavlovian sense eases at least half of my anxiety so that I can focus on wooing my dates. It’s a tossup between whether the bartenders are amused by the rotating cast of lovers, or if they’re morally opposed, but what’s it to them? One dating tip: always sit at the bar so you can easily break the Touch Barrier. A playful tap on the arm, the grazing of the knees… play some flirty pool, and then move to one of the booths for a full-blown smooch fest. First dates are a beautiful thing.
Your Heartbreak Haunt: The first date went swimmingly. The romance that followed was electric, the heartbreak devastating. You must drown your sorrows. The reason this bar has to be separate from the others is because you need a contained place to grieve. You can’t afford to contaminate your other regular bars with agony, so go to a bar that already feels contaminated: Myrtle Pub (56-53 Myrtle Ave.). This is not to insult them. Myrtle Pub is an institution. In fact, perhaps no bar will take better care of you. There’s free hot dogs; there’s free popcorn; there’s buy-one-get-one drinks. All the while, the bartenders typically just mind their business. If you’re one of those sad people who feel a need to self-castigate in the grieving process, use their bathrooms. You’ll just be glad to get out of there alive–a reminder that there is beauty to be found after exiting a foul situation.
Any more than these is too many. Be careful out there — The Mayor
Submit all issues, quandaries, and other disputes to the Mayor for resolution.
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