Dear Aggy: Upper Eastside Headmaster Wants to Deny Neighbors’ Kid Admission to “It” Pre-School

By Aggy Quincy Adams

 

Every week, Aggy Quincy Adams answers New Yorkers’ burning questions in her provocative “Dear Aggy” advice column. She has read every edition of “The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette” since it first went into print in 1952. Aggy’s raw, unfiltered advice makes her the moral compass of New York.

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An Upper Eastside woman wants to keep her social circle free of status climbing riffraff—and their offspring.  

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 Dear Aggy: I am the headmaster at a prestigious pre-school for Ivy League bound 4 year olds. My obnoxious new money neighbors desperately would like their 3 year old to attend in the fall. Even though I know first hand that young Bartholomew shows Ivy potential, this family is persona non grata in my social group. They are relentless social climbers with gross, ostentatious displays of wealth like Louis Vuitton suitcases. I don't want to be the one responsible for validating this family and affirming their deluded ambition to be well regarded within our group by admitting their son into my academy.

— Upper Crust Gatekeeper on the UES

Dear Upper Crust: You poor darling! It's completely unfair that your relentless neighbors have put you in this position. But, it’s a good thing you came to me because I have a great idea. Set up a scholarship for underprivileged students, and announce your neighbors’ young preschooler as the inaugural beneficiary. This will accomplish two things: You will be reaffirming that family's status as the underclass nouveau riche that they truly are, and you'll be doing a great thing for charity. I am sure you know the importance of contributing to charitable causes. It’s a win-win. And if they refuse your generous offer, they are truly tasteless. Godspeed!

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Dear Aggy: I am so excited because I have finally booked the perfect venue for my June wedding—the Brooklyn Botanic Garden! As a native Brooklynite, I am so proud that my special day will happen in the borough I have called home my entire life. But of course, there’s a problem!

My uncle owns a catering hall in Sheepshead Bay and insists on hosting our reception there as his wedding gift to us. However, this will make for quite a trek for my guests after the ceremony. My fiancé is from rural Ohio, and our wedding will be the first time in New York City for many of his family members traveling in for the wedding. I had this bright idea to buy Metrocards for all 100 guests but my maid of honor called that idea “tacky.” I really think the reception ought to be closer to the ceremony venue. Right around the time that my uncle gifted us with the use of his catering hall for our reception, I found this amazing art deco reception hall around the corner from the ceremony venue that is still available the day of my wedding…if I don’t miss the deposit deadline.

Aggy, I absolutely cannot say no to my uncle—he’s already started working on menu ideas and hiring additional staff, and it would just break his heart if I refused his kind offer. But after all, this is my wedding and shouldn’t I be able to truly have the wedding of my dreams?

— Torn in Bensonhurst

Dear Torn: I have an awesome idea, and frankly, I am surprised you weren’t able to see this obvious solution on your own. Take the money that you’re not spending on renting a reception hall and properly “thank” your uncle by offering to pay for renovations at his catering hall (I am sure he’s owned it for many years and it is probably overdue for a facelift anyway). And make sure you insist that the hall’s new look be in the art deco style. This way, you keep your uncle happy and you get to have that art deco style venue that you so deeply desire. And if he refuses your kind offer, then he is a hypocrite and you should disinvite him from the wedding.

As for your wedding guests who will have to sojourn down to Sheepshead Bay, your friend was right—sending your wedding guests on the subway is trés gauche. I have a better idea. Gift your guests with pre-paid American Express gift cards enclosed with a note instructing them to use it for an Uber X down to your uncle’s catering hall. That’s class. Cheers!

 

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Dear Aggy: Double-Life of a Bagel Lover in Inwood

By Aggy Quincy Adams

Every week, Aggy Quincy Adams answers New Yorkers’ burning questions in her provocative “Dear Aggy” advice column. She has read every edition of “The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette” since it first went into print in 1952. Aggy’s raw, unfiltered advice makes her the moral compass of New York.

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An Inwood woman abandons longtime bagel spot in favor of more hygienic pastures.

 

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Dear Aggy: You are my only hope in this. There are two bodegas on the same block in my neighborhood, one of which I live above in my building. Naturally, I always patronize the bodega a few stories below me in my building owned by a sweet older gentleman we will call Mr. Sosa. He’s a super sweet guy, and I have known him and his daughter in passing over the last two years. One day, I saw Mr. Sosa sneeze and then handle my regular toasted bagel with cream cheese order with his bare, unwashed, not hand-sanitized hands. Aggy, I was totally grossed out!

Mr. Sosa is such a nice, grandfatherly man but after that gross encounter, I began going to the bodega across the street. I wake up an hour and a half earlier just to spare Mr. Sosa the pain of seeing me go to the bodega across the street. I feel like a prisoner in my own neighborhood. How can I fix this?

- Feeling Guilty in Inwood

Dear Guilty: I will tell you the proper etiquette in this situation. Go to Papyrus, select some delightful stationary and slip under the door of the bodega early in the morning, before the store opens. In the letter, sincerely explain why you're a Sosa Bodega defector. I think he'll appreciate the timeless thoughtfulness of this gesture. People simply don’t write handwritten letters like they used to. All the best!

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Dear Aggy: I got a really great deal on Groupon for salsa lesson package at a studio in Chelsea. I was very excited because the lead instructor has worked with cast members of Dancing With the Stars, plus the studio is close to my job, so I can attend classes conveniently after work.

At my first session, I was very excited to see that the illustrious lead instructor and namesake of the studio would actually be the one teaching my class. Wow! The class started off great—he made salsa seem simple and broke down the basics in a way that I could understand. However, about halfway through the class, I noticed a rancid smell. It wasn’t until the instructor called upon me as a lady “volunteer” to help him demonstrate a new move that I realized the origin of that incredibly putrid stench. It was the instructor!

I figured his awful body odor was just a one-time thing but four sessions deep, things have not improved. In fact, they have only gotten worst. His body odor permeates not only the studio room, but the entire floor. I could even smell his stench when I was at the water fountain down the corridor.

Now I understand why I got such a great deal—this guy stinks! I don’t want to leave the class because he’s really an awesome teacher, and I don’t want to lose out of this great lesson package deal that I’ve already paid for. But if I don’t do something soon, I’m afraid I’ll choke on the air in the room.

- Deal Gone Rancid in Chelsea

Dear Deal: As a descendant of President John Quincy Adams, I must emphasize how it is important to be discreet in situations like this. Have you tried asking him to open a window in the studio? Or turn up the air conditioner? Have you shown your appreciation with a shiny new gift basket of soaps and body washes from Bath & Body Works? If none of those things work, you should purchase a medical facemask and wear that to class. If anyone questions why you’re wearing it, simply tell them that your immune system is vulnerable and can be easily compromised by foreign agents. No one will question that explanation. Have a great day!

 

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Dear Aggy: Brooklyn friends refuse to hang on Staten Island

By Aggy Quincy Adams

Every week, Aggy Quincy Adams answers New Yorkers’ burning questions in her provocative “Dear Aggy” advice column. She has read every edition of “The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette” since it first went into print in 1952. Aggy’s raw, unfiltered advice makes her the moral compass of New York.

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A Staten Island man wonders why his friends never venture out to see him.

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Dear Aggy: I live on Staten Island. Say no more, I already get plenty of flack for it from my colleagues and strangers alike, but I would at least expect a little leeway from my friends. Aggy, all of my friends live in Brooklyn. When it comes time to make our plans for the weekend, everything’s in Brooklyn. Flea market hopping. Artisan sandwich tastings. Pub crawls. You name it; we’re doing it on Driggs Avenue. I always make the trek to BK and usually end up having to retire early for the evening to make my long trip home. I have introduced the idea of us all meeting halfway in say, the East Village, but they say majority rules. My friends are awesome but I’m done with spending half of my Friday night on the ferry.

- A Saint in St. George

Dear Saint: Decide what makes you special enough to make several people take a ferry that leaves once an hour come and visit you. I implore you to meditate to really find the answer. If you come up with nothing, as I suspect you will, I say try making some new friends on Staten Island. Try the websites Craigslist or Meetup. The ferry is also a great place to start looking, since I know you probably spend a majority of your time on there. The television series “Mob Wives” takes place on Staten Island, so I know there are a lot of colorful characters on the island.  Good luck!

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Dear Aggy: I'm at odds with my parents over my undergraduate studies. I’m heading into my junior year of college and it's time for me to declare a major. I've been taking liberal arts classes for the past four semesters, because I’m trying to avoid telling them I’d like to major in journalism. They are both lawyers, and neither one of them would accept me pursuing anything other than medicine or law. I watch Late Night News every evening and I would love to someday be like Harley Harlinson and Yolanda Torres. I love writing, and I want to produce stories and documentaries that will change lives. But my parents are really firm on me staying on the Pre-Law tract, and I can’t really argue with them—after all, they pay for my tuition, room and board. I’m stuck!

 - Undeclared in Greenwich Village

Dear Undeclared: Go to Barnes & Noble, find the latest printing of “Barron’s Index of College Majors and Minors” and give it a good peruse. That should help you your on your path towards narrowing down your options. Toodles!

 

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between 8th & 9th Ave.

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