Andrew Krucoff is a notorious internet troublemaker. In the last couple of years, he’s served time interviewing young New Yorkers for Gothamist, crashing parties for Gawker, getting fired by Conde Nast and editing the web site of the 92nd Street Y. He also runs a blog called Young Manhattanite, which an eclectic mix of stories of his adventures in New York and essays on his various enthusiasms and objects of his derision.
Recently he headed off to Eastern Europe, leaving Young Manhattanite in the hands of a female friend named Dana. In one item posted on Friday, Dana describes a trip to “the Riverhead,” a strip club in Long Island City. After Krucoff leaves her side to pursue some sort of exchange with the eastern European employees of the club, Dana runs into two young men she describes as “two jackass I-bankers, the likes of which I've never seen at the Riverhead.”
After the jump, Dana learns where the investment banking duo earned their stripes, and how they wound up in a strip club in Long Island City.
They were fascinated to find a clothed woman at the bar, so they chatted me up in that charmless, aging frat boy/rapist way that really turns me on. "This place is a dump," Asshole # 1 said, taking a sip of his Amstel Light.
"Lemme guess, you live in CityLights, don't you."
"Nope." He shooed one of the dancers away.
"Then what the fuck are you doing here," I sneered.
"We were playing golf on Long Island. We're on our way back to Manhattan."
"Aha! Wait, lemme guess again. You live in...Murray Hill. No, wait, the Upper East Side. No! Wait, I know...the Financial District." I poked at the embroidered Lehman Brothers logo on his polo shirt. He was beginning to get annoyed. "So, you're a banker! At Lehman Brothers!"
"Well, not anymore. I used to be-"
"Hey, Andrew!" Krucoff had finally reappeared. "This guy works at Lehmann Brothers!" I poked his chest again. "He plays golf and thinks the girls here are ugly."
I think Krucoff realized at this point that we had to leave before the former lacrosse players cleaned his clock. I was almost out of money and tired of drinking Budweiser. It seemed as good a time as any to end the evening.
I'm the TR 808 [Young Manhattanite]