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The City
Island Girls April 10, 2005 By BROOKE HAUSER ON a recent Saturday night at Danny Boy's, a favorite neighborhood bar on the North Shore of Staten Island, Lisa Shammas could have snagged any guy in the room. Her reddish-brown hair was long enough to twirl flirtatiously or swing in rebuff, her lips were glossed, her jeans shrink-wrap tight. Unfortunately, the selection of men left much to be desired. Bachelor No. 1 was an overly slick former fling. Bachelor No. 2 was her cagey on-and-off-again partner, or, as she describes him, Boyfriend/Former Boyfriend. Bachelor No. 3, though preferable to Bachelors 1 and 2 by the sheer virtue of being unknown, turned out to be, as Ms. Shammas put it, ''a drunken fool who wouldn't let me pass him on the way to the bathroom.'' It was a typical night out on Staten Island, but thanks to Ms. Shammas, 27, many such evenings are getting more attention than they might otherwise. A social worker by day, she moonlights as a love columnist on the Web site of The Staten Island Advance under the nom de blog Island Girl, expounding on the travails of being single in New York's forgotten borough. A self-appointed chronicler of the North Shore scene for the past two years, she has made it her mission to address issues affecting single women on Staten Island, from the stigma associated with ''the Dump'' to the lure of the Jersey Shore. With the snarky style of her blog entries (which are written in such stream-of-consciousness fashion, the versions here are sharply condensed), and with obvious affection for the borough of her youth, Ms. Shammas's column, at www.silive.com/weblogs/islandgirl, has reached an audience beyond the island's single women. While soccer moms thank her for the chance to relive their wild days, and local men write in seeking relationship advice, her column has struck the deepest chord with women who identify wholeheartedly with her loudest lament: the feeling of being romantically shipwrecked in a place where everyone else seems to have settled down into domesticity. There are inklings that the island is getting a bit hipper and more singles-friendly; the Stapleton dive bar Martini Red presents screenings of underground films, and a Christian singles night is held every other Thursday at the Muddy Cup coffee shop. But the iconic image of a Staten Island girl is still embodied most memorably by Tess McGill, the big-haired secretary portrayed by Melanie Griffith in the 1988 film ''Working Girl,'' who makes good in Manhattan despite her tacky habit of wearing sneakers with pantyhose while commuting. Nor has the image of island life fared much better in recent fare like the reality television show ''The Simple Life,'' in which Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie hole up with an Italian family on the South Shore in one episode. And when Carrie and the girls venture across the bay to attend a Fire Department calendar contest in ''Sex and the City,'' Samantha's red-hot fantasies are quickly doused after she encounters a room of average-looking Joes snacking and watching TV. Missing from these portrayals is the reality of life for the young, college-educated -- and lovelorn -- women who call Staten Island home. ''I've got plans to be a mom and a wife,'' Kelly Gardner, a friend of Ms. Shammas's who had gone with her to Danny Boy's that night. ''It's what you grow up to be. But you feel like you're in a rut, like you need to go somewhere else.'' Monday, January 3, 2005 My dad started a conversation with ''Do you think you left home too soon?'' He said I have a pattern -- with boys in particular. With all of them, I am looking for a family. There was Asian Invasion -- Both he and his roommate had been good friends of mine and I enjoyed cooking and cleaning for them in exchange for company. Then there was/is BF. When we broke up, not only did I miss him, but his roommates and their girlfriends. So I guess my dad was right. I am constantly trying to fill that void. Is there a family out there that will adopt a 27-year-old girl? --Island Girl While Island Girl and her readers could leave Staten Island if they wanted to, they remain largely out of loyalty to the place where they grew up. ''My family is all here,'' said Ms. Gardner, 26, who often pops up in Island Girl's column as Bosom Buddy and is one of nine siblings raised in an Irish Catholic family with deep roots on the island. ''I couldn't leave them, and I couldn't live more than 10 minutes away.'' Despite a surge of immigrants in the past 20 years, Staten Island remains home largely to families who have lived there for generations, many of them blue-collar Irish or Italian Catholics. And especially within those groups, there is intense pressure to settle down young. Every Sunday when Ms. Shammas goes to Mass, she puts a few dollars in the collection box so as to be in good stead with the church in case she ever wants to get married there. While Ms. Shammas may long for a family environment, her sunny one-bedroom apartment in the North Shore neighborhood of Silver Lake is a shrine to female singledom. Snapshots of her and her girlfriends primped for a night out plaster her refrigerator. A pair of black dishwashing gloves cuffed with plastic pink roses sit by the sink. The toilet seat is covered with decorative green shag. The only whiff of testosterone is Mr. Wonderful, a talking doll that sits on the bedroom dresser. Mr. Wonderful is just 12 inches tall and requires double-A batteries, but he knows how to treat a woman. (''The ballgame isn't really that important; I'd rather spend time with you'' is one mantra.) Demographics do a lot to explain why Ms. Shammas and her friends are having a hard time finding Mr. Right so they can start families of their own. Though Staten Island is the city's third-largest borough -- as well as the state's fastest-growing county -- according to the 2000 Census it is also the most sparsely populated, with slightly under 450,000 residents. The next most populous borough, the Bronx, is home to 1.3 million people. Of the island's relatively small population, married couples make up 56 percent of total households. (Queens comes in second with about 47 percent. Manhattan is the least domestic borough, with just over 25 percent.) But perhaps the biggest disadvantage for the island's singles is that so many of them still live at home; of the nearly 50,000 islanders between 21 and 34 who have never married, 61 percent of women and 62 percent of men live under their parents' roofs. The dating constraints of such arrangements go without saying. Or as Ms. Gardner, who lives near Danny Boy's with her parents, put it: ''It's like: 'Hey, Mom, what's going on? This is just some random guy who I'm not going to date or marry, but he's really good in the sack.''' Because of these factors, singles on the island aren't so much meeting other singles as recirculating endlessly among the same group of friends, relatives and exes. ''Whenever I go out,'' Ms. Shammas said as she nursed a vodka and tonic and surveyed the all-too-familiar scene at Danny Boy's, ''I always have within a two-foot radius of me at least three or four guys I've hooked up with.'' Not that dating men who don't live on the island is easy, either. ''I would definitely say that dating a guy in the city would make it much harder for a booty call,'' Ms. Shammas said. ''Not to sound trashy, but you know? You have to pay $8 on the Verrazano and $6 on any of the Jersey bridges, so you can't get off this island for free unless you take the ferry. It's like a long-distance relationship.'' And as Ms. Gardner pointed out, eligible bachelors aren't exactly streaming in. ''A guy from the Bronx isn't going to come all the way out here,'' she said, ''so it's all people you grew up with or Jersey Shore boys, and I'm not into doot-a-doots.'' Doot-a-doots? She gestured toward the dance floor, where a couple of guys with spray-on tans pummeled the air to the beat of Snoop Dogg's ''Drop It Like It's Hot.'' ''You know, a Tony, a Joey,'' Ms. Shammas explained. ''Carries the invisible suitcases and waxes his body hair.'' Or as she once wrote in a blog, ''A five o'clock shadow is nice on your face, but not on your arms.'' Dominick Casazza, who has shoulder-length black hair and likes alternative music and creative writing, echoed Ms. Gardner's frustration, albeit from a different perspective. ''There are a lot of 'Staten Island girls' with the overly tan skin, the velour jumpsuits, the sunglasses and the furry boots,'' he said. ''They wouldn't want anything to do with me.'' Saturday, November 13, 2004 A conversation: Me: So where do you live? Guy: Bay Terrace, three-bedroom apartment. Me: Nice. You live alone, with a roommate? Guy: I live with my fiancee. Me: (To myself) And, conversation OVER. Danny Boy's -- always a nice place to meet a practically married man. --I.G. Despite their complaints, Ms. Shammas and her single girlfriends rarely venture off Staten Island to explore what the rest of the city has to offer. ''The common perception is that Staten Island girls are very sheltered and closed off,'' said one of Ms. Shammas's co-workers, Peter DiPaola, who recently drove from Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, to help celebrate her birthday at Martini Red. ''It's impossible to get them to cross the bridge.'' There's some truth to that image. For many women, especially those traveling alone at night, crossing the bay is simply too far a trek. And while driving is an option, it's one Ms. Shammas doesn't love, particularly after a difficult week. As a social worker, she spends hours shuttling abused children from their homes in Staten Island to hospitals as far as Jamaica, Queens. ''It's Friday, you just got out of work,'' she said. ''You want to drive five minutes down the block to the bar where you a) know the bartender, b) don't have to spend a lot of money to get in, and c) don't have to get dressed up or put on airs.'' The distance between Staten Island singles and the rest of New York's unmarrieds isn't merely physical. For as long as the island has been linked to Manhattan by the ferry, the island has been the punch line to many an off-color joke. Though the Fresh Kills landfill is closed, its fetid legend lives on, making for unique pickup lines, generally along the lines of ''Does it smell like the dump by where you live?'' And even though the island's southern tip also boasts some of the city's last corners of wilderness, where horses roam behind fences and salt marshes outnumber houses, try explaining that to a group of frat guys at an Upper East Side bar. ''There were times when I would go out and lie,'' Ms. Shammas said. ''You know, 'Where am I from tonight, guys?' I'd always say I was from Brooklyn -- Bay Ridge or Park Slope. I'd make up places just for the day because I didn't want to hear somebody say: 'You're from Staten Island? Uuugh.''' After the attacks of September 11, the island gained a new distinction. It suffered the loss of 78 firefighters, more per capita than any other borough. And in the wake of tragedy came a strange phenomenon. Many island women found themselves attracted to the idea of dating a ''rescuer,'' a civil service version of a knight in shining armor. The hope was that firefighters or police officers would finally make honest women of them. Thanks to some messy experiences, a number of women discovered otherwise. Ms. Gardner's heart was broken by an officer who, she later found out, was already in a relationship: ''I saw him in the Engagement section of The Staten Island Advance.'' Ms. Shammas's infatuation with men in uniform ended abruptly the night she went to a party held by some local police officers, and a sergeant came on a little too strong. ''He was like, 'I have to tell you a secret,''' she said, laughing, ''and then he pushed me against the wall and licked my ear. Ever since then, he's had the name Sergeant Licks a Lot.'' There are other options besides bars and parties for socializing on the island, but many are hardly ideal for the 20-to-30 set. The island's singles clubs tend to be affiliated with churches and geared toward an older crowd. The largest and most successful such group, the St. Charles Singles Club, has 60 members and organizes local karaoke nights, as well as field trips into Manhattan to places like the Madame Tussaud's wax museum, but attracting younger members has been a challenge. Internet dating has its pitfalls too, as Ms. Gardner discovered when she went out with a man from New Jersey whom she had met online, only to discover not only that he had bad tattoos on his legs, but that one was of his dog, who, like her, was named Kelly. Ms. Gardner did have some fleeting luck at Danny Boy's, where she met a man named Sean. Except for a couple of drawbacks, among them the photograph of a woman's naked behind on his cellphone, he seemed heaven-sent. ''I like hands, and he had big, strong hands that were a little rough on the insides,'' Ms. Gardner said. Sadly, the first date was a bust. And Ms. Shammas? She and Boyfriend/Former Boyfriend finally called it quits after he stood her up on Valentine's Day. Unable to eat, write or even crack open a relationship-advice book, she announced the breakup on her blog, then withdrew for a week into a lovesick haze. But after a rush of support from her readers, including a few men who made their interest in her known, she soon realized just how much her public needed her. Wednesday, March 2, 2005 Sunday? What is Sunday?? Oh, only the biggest event on Staten Island, like, ever -- bigger than the closing of the dump -- It's the St. Patty's Parade. Time for barhopping on Forest Avenue, reuniting with friends, toting water bottles full of beer and going nuts for the sound of bagpipes. Running into all those old familiar faces makes me realize how much I've missed some of them. Speaking of which, the high school reunion started last night at the Y. ''Shammy!'' I hear through my headphones as I'm running on the tread. At the sound of my old nickname, I turn around to see the boy who also called me ''Thunder Thighs'' in high school. ''Wow, you look GREAT,'' he said. I got modest, shy, said thanks, but I couldn't help but feel like ''Yeah, sucka, eat your heart out.'' --I.G. Where Is the Love? To help Staten Island singles looking for a place to hang out, Island Girl (a.k. Lisa Shammas), below, offered these ratings of some of her North Shore favorites. BEER GARDEN A newer addition to North Shore hangouts. Age range: Mid 20's to late 30's. Ambience: TV's every which way you look; best place to participate in sports spectating. Clientele: Tonys or Abercrombies, take your pick, along with their moms or pops. Music: Jukebox with 80's classics, or a hit-or-miss band. Service: Drinks are usually presented in a timely fashion, and if you're cute, the third one is free. Rating: B+ DANNY BOY'S Staten Island's very own Cheers. Age range -- 21-somethings on Thursdays and Fridays; on weekends, anything goes. Ambience -- To reach the bar, expect to do the "shoulder shimmy" through a few layers of patrons wearing Von Dutch trucker hats. Clientele -- Anything from bikers to Tonys. Music -- Acoustic duo at Friday happy hour, DJ Friday night, local yokel band on Saturday. Service -- Strong drinks served swiftly with a smile. Rating: B+ MARTINI RED West Village comes to Van Duzer Street, a.k.a Stapleton Heights. Age range -- Late 20's. Ambience -- Lush couches, candles, paper lamps, exposed brick, work by local artists. Clientele -- Yuppies, hoodies, artists, hippies. Music -- A D.J. who spins hip-hop, break beat, trance, underground, rock, stuff you never heard of; other times, a band performs. Service -- Martini specialists. Usually strong and quick, just how I like 'em. Rating: A BRIDGET'S PUBLIC HOUSE Irish dive equipped with a jukebox, Celtic decor, and one booth for early birds. Age range -- From 20-somethings to Depends-wearing cronies. Ambience -- You can't help but long for the distant drone of bagpipes while sipping your swill. Music -- Selection of jukebox spinners; sometimes a fab acoustic duo or an Irish band. Clientele -- Frat boys, blue-collar workers, dads and granddads. Service -- No watered-downs, and there's a wait only during the Staten Island St. Patrick's Day parade. Rating: B © 2005 The New York Times Co. Reprinted with permission. nytimes.com » |