Siddity in the City

Because I do. That–this–is where I live.

Crazytown, USA.

But I live a somewhat insular existence, rarely leaving my little UWS enclave, not mingling with the masses. Then something happens and I find myself confronted with that particular brand of insanity found only in places like this.

For instance, I went hunting for a new apartment on the Internets, and discovered a share for a measly $950.

Then I took a closer look.

It was a one-bed, already inhabited by two women in their forties.

That $950? That gets you rights to the futon in the living room.

THE FUTON. In the LIVING ROOM. In the open. What a scam. How people can in good conscience charge someone a grand to sleep on their dirty futon is beyond me.

Later, I paid a visit to Gracious Home, just to have a look-see. Saw some lovely Designers Guild bed linens. Lovely, I say.

I picked up an embroidered pillow sham. Because prettying up your pillows is a wonderful way to make over your bed without spending too much on duvet sets.

It was $90. The pillow sham, not the duvet set. Ninety. Nine-Oh. Dollars.

The matching duvet cover was $235.

I will never, ever, ever pay $90 for a pillowcase. (A 200-thread count, no less. Not a luxury piece.) I have never paid that much for an ENTIRE set. Every one I have cost me $50 or less. Wait, I might have paid $60 for one, but I assure you, that is my upper limit.

Sigh. I’m off to the gym, where we’ve got 10 new flatscreen TV’s, but four broken elliptical machines. Because, you know, who needs those in a gym?