Dispatches from the Russian Hamptons

Zdravstvujte, friends!

And for you idiots who don’t know what “Zdravstvujte” means, it translates to “hello” in Russian. Look! You learned a lesson! Now, when moving from our perspective home states of Delaware and Minnesota our parents told us they wanted us to make sure we took advantage of all the cultural goodies the city had to offer, the museums, the live music, the ethnic foods, the politics and of course the 50 cent vodka shots on the boardwalk in Brighton Beach. And boy, have we sure done at least one of those! Don’t bother guessing.

When an outsider thinks of Brooklyn they may naively picture Biggie Smalls, crack rock and concealed weapons. When an uninformed Manhattanite thinks of Brooklyn they tend to conjure up loathsome images of spoiled hipsters on fixed-gears or hippie moms drinking Kombucha al fresco with a brood ofchildren with creative haircuts and baby Snuggies. But I can assure you all there is so much more Brooklyn has to offer, like eastern European men in neon thongs.

7 miles by way of bicycle, there is a land called Brighton Beach, also known as the last stop on the Q train and home-base for Russian immigrants, so this is obviously where we spend the sunniest of Saturdays. I hatched my plan on a Wednesday asking Holly and Kristy to join me on a leisurely bike ride to the beach, knowing that people rarely turn-down this opportunity. At 10am sharp on that Saturday we slapped-on bikinis and hopped on bikes and I, proceeded to lead my Midwestern girlfriends down a.... er, cultural path as we pedaled through the projects, to streets lined with brownstones, to streets lined with giant, gaudy mansions, all the way to the ocean, marked by towering high rises. My bike, naturally, became injured 4 miles into the 7 mile ride and started making a banging noise that seemed to scream “strange men, please come up to me and try to help me with my bike!” but I would not be deterred and the payoff was sweet, Mr. Softee sweet.

We sampled the modern Brooklyn fare, Mr. Softee ($2.50 per person) just tastes better when you eat it on the city street in a bikini. Then, on the beach we flagged down the man pulling a cart and hocking flavored ice ($2 per person). I had to spit mine out because it tasted like soap... but probably not because it was clean.

After we had enough sun exposure, fruit flavored ice, dips in the “ocean”, and eye-fulls of scantily-clad European-tounged men, we took to the boardwalk.

I remember the New Jersey boardwalks of my childhood having offerings of ski-ball and fudge samples, Brighton Beach is different. On Brighton Beach hoards of big-haired and hoop-earinged folks roam from vendor to vendor sampling summer dishes like borsht, dried fish and of course, vodka.

Not feeling quite as culturally adept, we waited on line for hot dogs ($1.50 each) and French fries ($2), and topped off our eating excursion with the decidedly less-risky grilled corn on the cob ($2 each).

Finally, feeling like we had really accomplished the cultural dreams our parents had in mind for us, we climbed the Q train platform, faulty bike over my shoulder and rode the rails back to our own little Americanized corner of Brooklyn. But we have vodka there too.

Totals Spent: $10 per person