Pfft!

Real Estate Observers note that there is no goddamned bubble in Manhattan, period:

The average sales price for a Manhattan apartment rested higher in the fourth quarter of last year than in all but one of the quarters of 2005 or 2004, the peak years of the supposed housing boom.

The median, a better market barometer, was just shy of $800,000, according to appraisal firm Miller Samuel in its report for brokerage Prudential Douglas Elliman. And the average price per square foot still tickled the $1,000 mark, something it’s done since late 2005.

Not only did the Manhattan market continue to be prohibitively expensive, but sales actually picked up in the fourth quarter as inventory dropped, meaning that there’s plenty of hearty, moneyed folk among us (or from well outside the five boroughs) willing to plunk down an average of $1,554,645 for a two-bedroom spread, to use one example from the Miller Samuel report.

“The only bubbles bursting are in somebody’s bathtub,” said Darren Sukenik, a top Elliman broker. He cut short a Christmas week getaway to Argentina, hustling back to the city three days early because his assistant kept getting requests for apartment showings. “It’s never busy Christmas week, ever. The buyers are definitely there.”

Ew.

From Hot Dog To Bottle Service

Not only were they dealing drugs at Dyckman Marina in Inwood Hill Park but concessionaires were throwing parties with bottle service, something that apparently will end when the next concession opens:

Jerry O’Rourke, operator of the marina and a co-owner of the restaurant, who ran the businesses on concession from the Parks Department, was arrested on Dec. 12, along with eight other people, on charges of helping to operate a large-scale drug ring out of the marina and nearby buildings. Mr. O’Rourke, who is a retired New York City police officer, pleaded not guilty.

The attention of the neighborhood has turned to discussions among those who express amazement or outright disbelief at the allegations, and those who say the activities were an open secret.

Whatever the truth of the charges, though, local residents are already turning to another question: Whither the marina? The marina was a mainstay of the neighborhood, and Mr. O’Rourke was known for staging salsa and merengue concerts. Those gatherings sent sounds echoing off the Palisades across the water and bred a satellite party scene along Dyckman Street, where young men would park tricked-out cars vibrating with bass. The noise provoked constant complaints from neighbors, occasionally leading the police to restrict car access to the end of the street.

Last week, there seemed to be an inverse correlation between local residents’ ages and their interest in seeing this scene recreated. “People had fun there,” said Javier Fernandez, 28, who was wiping down a Town Car inside Hand Car Wash on Dyckman Street. Speaking from beneath the brim of a baseball hat embossed with red flames, he added, “Everyone who lived here went to concerts there.” But many older residents seemed to hope for a more sedate marina, a place free of the packed concerts and $100 bottle service.

“I think the community is relieved at the possibility of a new concession,” said Sarah Morgridge, an aide to City Councilman Robert Jackson, who represents the area. Ms. Morgridge, 58, remembers the marina of 10 years ago as “a place you could grab a hot dog and be down by the water.” The Parks Department said that it planned to solicit proposals for a new concession at the site, and that it would ensure an end to the late-night parties.

Location Scout: Inwood Hill Park.

Good News/Bad News

The good news is that the Manhattan real estate market is crashing. The bad news is that it’s not crashing enough:

The cost of a apartment remains steep, according to two real estate reports released today for the final quarter of 2006. The average price was about $1.2 million. That’s 3 to 5 percent higher than a year ago, but 3 to 5 percent below the third quarter of 2006.

Prices tend to slip at the end of the year, explained Jonathan Miller of the residential appraisal firm Miller Samuel. “But we saw a real uptick in transactions in the fourth quarter, which is unusual,” he said.

Sellers came down in their pricing last quarter by nearly 4 percent, Miller said. “They had been pricing their listings as if the market were still appreciating at a 20 percent clip, instead of at a single-digit clip. Anecdotally our impression always was there was a lot of money on the sidelines.” Potential buyers who had decided to wait saw their rents rise.

Just Keep Them Away From Bad Influences Like Mary-Kate And They’ll Adjust Fine

What first appeared to downtown observers to be an influx of chunky Midwesterners on some sort of semester-abroad program turns out to be employees of the new Googleplex:

From lava lamps to abacuses to cork coffee tables, the offices may as well be a Montessori school conceived to cater to the needs of future science-project winners. The Condé Nast and Hearst corporations have their famous cafeterias designed by, respectively, Frank Gehry and Norman Foster; but Google has free food, and plenty of it, including a sushi bar and espresso stations. There are private phone booths for personal calls and showers and lockers for anyone running or biking to work.

The campuslike workspace is antithetical to the office culture of most New York businesses. It is a vision of a workplace utopia as conceived by rich, young, single engineers in Silicon Valley, transplanted to Manhattan.

. . .

Food is a major perk at the Manhattan Googleplex. Every Tuesday afternoon, tea with crumpets and scones is served. In the cafeteria a dry-erase board lists local purveyors of the ingredients in the meals like a sign at the Union Square Greenmarket. (Dry-erase boards are big in Google culture; ideas flow quickly).

All the free food has created a problem familiar to college freshmen. “Everyone gains 10 or 15 pounds when they start working here,” said James Tipon, a member of the sales team, who actively contributes to the four pounds of M&Ms consumed by New York Googlers daily. “I definitely gained that when I started working here, but I think I shed some of it,” Mr. Tipon said. “I try to be disciplined but it’s really hard.”

Bringing Gritty Back

And here you assumed Times Square somehow lost its former lustre:

It’s unclear what caused 45-year-old Joseph Regno’s death inside the tiny booth, which charges $1 per two pornographic minutes, source said.

But when an employee at Gotham City discovered his body Saturday night, he left to call for help, the sources said.

Guy Montgomery, 25, then allegedly made his move. He rummaged through the dead man’s pants and grabbed cash, the sources said. He then opened the booth — one of 20 at the parlor — and darted toward the door.

Cops arrived just in time to arrest Montgomery as the he made his exit from the Eighth Avenue peepshow palace.

The Bronx man, who has prior robbery arrests, was charged with grand larceny.