Tagged: New Jersey
Housing Wanted: Yankees Center Fielder Seeks Suitable Residence – ASAP
Brett Gardner doesn’t have time to celebrate his new job as the Yankees starting center fielder.
He needs a place to live. Now. The team is about to break camp and head north, and Gardner told the beat writers: “I haven’t started looking for housing in New York yet, but I have no intention of living in the same New Jersey extended stay hotel I used last year.”
Well, all right then, Gardy. So where are you planning to put yourself? You’re a hayseed from Holly Hill, South Carolina, and you don’t know squat about New York. Do you honestly think you can just close your eyes, point to a spot on a map of the Tri-State area and go, “I’ll move there?”
Of course not. You’re not making Jeter/A-Rod money, and you don’t have a 10-year contract. Your options aren’t limitless. You need guidance. Fortunately, She-Fan is at your service.
You can be very conservative and simply rent a room in the house of a family whose little boy has grown up and gone away to college.
Or maybe you’d prefer a more fraternity-like atmosphere.
If so, we could probably move you into the same New Jersey condominium as them.
Oh. You’re married with a young son and you’re moving them to New York. Right. What about a two-bedroom/two bath apartment in a Manhattan high-rise for the three of you?
There are so many neighborhoods we could consider, since Manhattan is such a mixed bag.
We could find you something on the Upper East Side surrounded by types like them.
Or you might enjoy the Meat Packing District where you’d very likely run into them.
And there’s always the Chelsea neighborhood where you’d probably run into them.
O.K. You don’t want to be in the city. You’d rather find something that reminds you of home. How about a sweet little farmhouse in a bucolic area of Connecticut?
Your son is allergic to cows?
Fine. Let’s do a waterfront condo in Westchester.
Your wife is afraid of the water?
Sorry, I don’t understand. You want to live where? What’s a yurt?
Tell you what, Gardy. Find your own tent. No, I’m not mad at all. It’s your life. Just promise you’ll show up here next week and we’re good.
A-Sab Speaks: “I’m a Saks Girl”
So I wasn’t wrong. Amber Sabathia, who attended the press conference at which her husband and his new sidekick, A.J. Burnett, were introduced to the media at Yankee Stadium, admitted that she had reservations about raising her family in the New York area.
Pictured with Karen Burnett and little Serena Girardi, A-Sab explained that it was She-Fan – on this very blog! – who convinced her otherwise.
“She-Fan said, ‘You’re going to love the suburbs,” A-Sab revealed to Sam Borden of The Journal News. “She told me the schools were good and the pediatricians were good and the supermarkets were good. And then she said the magic words: ‘They have a Saks Fifth Avenue.'” A-Sab giggled to Sam. “I’m a Saks girl.”
Takes one to know one. I spotted the princess in her the first time I saw the copper gown.
When she and I had spoken on the phone a couple of weeks ago, I described the Saks on Fifth Avenue and 49th Street in excruciating, department-by-department detail. “The shoe department is so big it has its own zip code.”
People will claim it was the $161 million the Yankees agreed to pay Cee Cee that sealed the deal, but it was the line about Saks that did it.
Right after the press conference, A-Sab called and asked if I wanted to go shopping. “I’m dying to see the store,” she said, practically panting. “I need to buy something special. A-Rod invited us to dinner with him and Madonna.”
So off we went on her first trip to Saks. She wanted special? I would show her special. That’s the good news.
The bad news was that since she had unlimited funds and nothing but time, I was stuck spending three hours in the women’s designer department watching her try on clothes.
First there was this Dolce & Gabbana leopard number.
I told her it might bring out the cattiness in Madonna and she should think about something less competitive.
Next she looked at this black Versace gown with the fitted satin top.
I said it was more appropriate for a charity gala. She’s a little naive when it comes to this stuff.
She squealed over this ruffled silk Carolina Herrera dress.
“Teal isn’t your color,” I said, struggling to keep my eyes open.
“What about this one?” she said hopefully. “Cee Cee likes me in orange.”
“Whatever,” I said. “Buy it and let’s go.” I was miffed that I wasn’t invited to dinner with A-Rod and Madonna, not to mention that I had better things to do than be her babysitter.
I was getting up to leave when she tapped me on the shoulder. “Wait, She-Fan,” she said with a mischievous smile.
That’s when the saleslady brought out this chiffon Vera Wang.
“Amber, it’s beautiful,” I said, my heart thumping.
“It’s yours. Just a little thank you.”
I could have refused the gift. I could have gotten all huffy and said I didn’t take tips. I could have pretended I could afford my own Vera Wang dress. But I didn’t do any of those things.
“I’ll take it,” I told the saleslady. “Could you ship it to California?”
A-Sab and I high-fived. We were BFFs for sure.