Free New York for Beginners by Susann Remke Page B

dog-eared and a little dirty. How many American immigrants had the book already helped adapt to their new environment? As Zoe started to flip through it, one particularly wrinkled page caught her attention.
    First Commandment, or: Never Kiss the Boss
    In fact, never sleep with anyone at all in your department—and especially not after the office Christmas party or the company picnic. The next day, and the day after, and the day after that, until you quit and move to New Zealand, you’ll see the guy in the office again and again. This applies worldwide, not just to New York.
    But here’s a special rule for the US: Every office romance carries the risk of sexual-harassment charges if it goes wrong. See the movie Disclosure with Michael Douglas and Demi Moore, 1994.
    That’s just peachy, Zoe thought. She rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling.

    A little later, Zoe walked into the main office on the twenty-ninth floor with her iPhone to her ear, seemingly absorbed in an important conversation. Actually, she hadn’t even dialed a number. She was only faking it to get to her own office as fast as possible without having to talk to anyone. Once she got to her desk, she forced herself to go through her notes for the article about mistresses. Work would distract her—that was Allegra’s theory. If she worked, she wouldn’t have time to worry.
    Apparently, practically everyone in a serious relationship cheated at some point, Zoe had read during her research. The usual scenario is that at first, the mistress feels superior to the wife. The wife doesn’t know or notice. The guy probably hadn’t been getting very much action in bed for a while aside from some vanilla sex that happens out of a sense of duty. The mistress is free, independent—and thus attractive to the husband, who wants just one thing: no stress (and, of course, plenty of sex). Until he slowly and probably subconsciously forces the mistress into dependence. Then she becomes a new wife, whom he eventually betrays with a new mistress.
    Depressing subject, Zoe thought as she began to write her article. She’d already informed the web designer about the new vertical, which was called “Sex & Love.” Hopefully he was coding diligently and would have it ready for her soon. Zoe wrote the first sentence of her story, then deleted it. It was all rubbish. Writing was sometimes pure torture. She had absolutely no idea what she wanted to write. Actually, she didn’t want to be writing at all. She would rather be sulking and indulging in a little self-pity. It wasn’t fair that such a major disaster had to happen to her, of all people. She had just barely managed to step out of her comfort zone, and everything was already going wrong.
    Thank God (or the Universe, or whatever) Eros Mittermayer stuck his head in her door at exactly that moment. “Would you like to go to lunch with me and my friend Mimi? I have a table for us at Pastis. French food.”
    Stars, or: How to Ignore Celebrities
    It doesn’t matter if Robert De Niro is sitting at the next table, or if Jay-Z and Beyoncé are at the playground with their daughter Blue Ivy. In New York, stars are basically ignored. Do not say, “Oh, look, there’s . . .” No pointing, and absolutely no taking pictures or asking for autographs. Shrieking and fainting are left strictly to the tourists. Real New Yorkers simply take the presence of stars for granted, like the existence of the Empire State Building. After all, one can’t stop and stare with one’s mouth open every time a VIP walks past.
    ( New York for Beginners , p. 69)
    “The New York Meatpacking District used to be exactly what its name says it is,” Eros explained, as they shared a taxi down to 14th Street. “Sides of pork, pigs’ feet, mountains of ground beef—and plenty of live human meat all around it.”
    “That sounds pretty gross,” Zoe said.
    “Not at all! A few years ago the yuppies moved in and opened their boutiques and