Jungle Livin Ain't Easy

Nothing about New York is easy. I've come to learn that very quickly. It's a face paced jungle and if you can't keep up, you'll be eaten by the lions.

Trying to find an apartment? Be careful to trust the baboons we call "real estate agents." Living spaces listed as rainforest wonders can really turn out to be swamp things.

Trying to find a job? If you can make down to the playing field watch out for the vultures swinging above, just waiting for you to fail. And watch out for those lionesses who see you as their lunch once the hunt stops going their way.

Trying to find a roommate? Be careful who you share the nest with.

Trying to find just a plain old mate? Those gorillas we call "men" show their might in the chase and their lack of interest in the conquering. Even though they bang on their puffed out chests, you might not want to swing with them on the vines.

It's a dog eat dog world out there in the wild we call New York. And if you're not careful, you could be on the endangered species list.

I got a job! Wait, didn't I?

So I got a job!!! The thing I came to New York for!!

Unfortunately they're paying me $200 a week. So I guess that's $200 more than I was making before. But what happened to making a living?

So I guess that can buy my groceries and a couple drinks a week.

...Back to the job hunt.

Why Not Me?

Note to self: when feeling badly about your self esteem and the fact that you’re unemployed you may be tempted to watch gallons of reality television considering that’s the majority of programming for daytime tv. However, do not fall into this trap. You will sit in the same position watching people who have “made it” by doing absolutely nothing and therefore further lower your self esteem (even if you didn’t know that was possible). You will sit and listen to Rachel Zoe say things like “that’s totally major” or watch Snooki get arrested for the second time or watch the Real Housewives sit around a dinner table acting like third graders and actually WISH that you could be them.

And the demeaning angry voice in your head starts to snowball: why isn’t my dad connected to the mob? Why can’t I be paid to drink and club? Why can’t I play dress up with million dollar articles of clothing and get paid for it? Etc. etc. etc.

So while in the past they may have been your guilty pleasure. Now they just make you feel straight guilty

The Betty White Story

So I’m sitting in Madison Square Park enjoying my Jamba Juice and the ice cold bitterment of sitting in Madison Square Park because I have no job, when an old man in an electric wheelchair rolls up next to me.

“Do you mind watching this for me while I go to the bathroom?” he asked as he hustled away before he heard my slow and awkward response of “Sure?”

Two thoughts: If you’re in a wheelchair, why are you walking to the bathroom? And where are you going to the bathroom in the middle of a park?

Oh well. Back to my Jamba.

Then the wheelchair takes off. It bursts into the oncoming crowd and spins in circles around park passerbys.

“UM what am I supposed to do with that?!” I say to the woman nose deep in her novel next to me.

Oh well, at least no one is going to steal a wheelchair if it’s defective and running people over. So there I sat.

All of a sudden I look up and see a suspiciously full stroller pushed by a stationary woman. And a park cleaner with a suspiciously full crate also standing diagonally from her. As I glanced from woman to park cleaner I saw a similar feature: a giant black camera lens gazes upon me.

So now this is the time for Ashton to pop out and say I’ve been punk’d right? Or is this just a creepy New York thing I don’t know about?

After what seemed like forever, finally a man with a clipboard approaches me and asks me to sign a release. Well, that was anti-climatic!

He explained he worked for Betty White’s new show “Off Your Rocker” where old people do stupid things and people react to them on hidden camera, airing in February. I complied and laughed it off.

“Only in New York!” I thought.

And that’s when it hit me: I just got punk’d by Betty White.

Fresh. Off. The. Boat.