Last Thursday, Frisky staffers noticed the sound of a police helicopter hovering above midtown Manhattan for what felt like at least an hour. We had no idea what they helicopter was looking for – until later that evening, when New York news reported on the manhunt for Nicolas Almonte, a Queens man who had walked off his job Thursday morning, carjacked three different people at gunpoint, robbed another man and attempted to rob two others at gun point. After crashing his third carjacked vehicle — a gold Mercedes —Almonte broke into the basement of 27-year-old Brooklyn resident Sybil Jason’s apartment building. Sybil just-so-happens to also be a friend of mine.
What follows is Sybil’s first-hand account of what happened next:
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Like a lot of people, my teeth were pushed and pulled with a variety of contraptions during my formative years. It all started innocently enough in 5th grade when I got spacers. Tiny rubber bands were wound between metal brackets that had been twisted around my back teeth. This was the first sign that my preteens were going to be painful and not because of my unflattering haircut and spotty fashion sense; those bands were an agent of torture. Sure, they came in bright, fun colors, but I learned quickly that neon pink things can be used as a torture device too. When my jaw became too sore to snack on Hot Pockets after school as per my usual routine, I knew that shit was getting real. Keep reading »
Mean girls happen. They happen at 9 years old on the playground. At 21 years old in the sorority. They happen in blockbuster Lindsay Lohan movies.
And for me, they happened when I was 27. Keep reading »