Hotel By Tom II: Uncle Tom’s Second and More Hospitable Cabin, Brooklyn, New York. Late Summer

At this point, of course, my home has become hotel. Danny and his girlfriend stayed here while I was gone. Aliya stayed here while I was gone. According to them my bed is lumpy.

Hey, assholes: YOU’RE WELCOME!

But seriously, thanks for the plants, the broom, and the toilet-bowl scrubber. Most clutch.

Here is what I can offer you (Should you ever want to AirBNB this shit and be a horrible scourge on the rest of the city):

  • Shower that is really consistently hot
  • Toilet that flushes most poops with one flush
  • Plunger
  • Four plants that don’t need any maintenance
  • Gas range
  • Brooklyn balcony (aka, fire escape)
  • Prime location (this part isn’t a lie)
  • Compliments on your attire from the people at the coffee shop next door

Okay, so maybe not the last one.

Point of the story — somebody probably left a glass of farmer’s market milk in your fridge and in the 24 hours you were in New York before leaving you didn’t even see it, and so when you got back late last night, several days, presumably, after the mysterious substance appeared, you dumped it out into the sink.

Point of the story — it’s pretty much impossible to beat a price that is “FREE” and “NOT INFESTED WITH VERMIN” in New York City, which is why, despite the plants, the broom, the toilet thingy, I’m still waiting on Thank-You cards, guys.

I’m still waiting.

Rating: 4.5/5


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