Location Be Damned, I Need Some Rest
by Francis Parrilli
Photo: Johannes Nikolaus Kapros at awhitershadeofboom.tumblr.com
Photo: Johannes Nikolaus Kapros at awhitershadeofboom.tumblr.com
Photo: Johannes Nikolaus Kapros at awhitershadeofboom.tumblr.com
Photo: Johannes Nikolaus Kapros at awhitershadeofboom.tumblr.com
Location Be Damned, I Need Some Rest
Feature from "The Location Issue" Continues.
TRINITY CHURCH
$$$$
$ 34 reviews
Accepts Credit Cards: Yes. Parking: Private Lot. Wheelchair Accessible: Yes. Good for Kids: No. Good for Groups: Yes. Attire: Business. Noise Level: Low. Good For Dancing: No. Alcohol: Yes. Best Nights: Fri. Takes Reservations: No.
As the global population continues along the path of astronomical growth and the once plenteous vacancy of land continues to diminish, the pursuit of post-mortem prime real estate is more fiercely competitive than ever. Why spend diminishing financial resources on the likes of coastal Malibu or Monaco when you’re going to spend more time in a pine box than on a picturesque balcony? Be it urn, casket, pyre, or crypt, the secrets to an eternity of pious contentment may simply lay in the geographic splendor of where you do. So choose wisely, this is one long-term lease that is unbreakable.
The last words of Wall Street end here, in one of the older and more celebrated apostolic churchyards on the Eastern seaboard. Technically divided into three separate “pastures” with no possible realistic expansion potential outside of those special few wielding strong union ties and a deep-pocketed funeral dowry, this death-bedrock of symbolic New Yorker fortitude stands mostly for the ability of the human body to tolerate hundreds of years worth of screaming taxicabs, needlessly angry street vendors, and pretentious stock broker chit-chat. Since most Manhattanites already know that feeling of paying too much for an apartment with a floor plan consisting of casket-like dimensions and spending endless hours in dark tunnels with foul-smelling “neighbors,” perishing in the Big Apple seems like just another day. So if you are a city dweller at heart with a big wallet, once your fruit falls from the tree of life, ride the flatline downtown and see if Alexander Hamilton has a little room to spare.
Written by Francis Parrilli