Hey Dick Wolf — Here’s Another “Idea,” You Sick Turd

And now you know what a dead body smells like:

The Fulton Street subway stop on the G line in Fort Greene is the site of a smelly mystery. An unknown stench fills the underpass connecting Brooklyn-bound trains to Queens-bound trains — but it’s unclear where the smell is coming from because the underpass is actually clean and well maintained.

Riders don’t know what to make of it.

“It made me want to throw up,” said Rashell Jenkins, “It’s disgusting, it smells like a bathroom.”

“It smells like urine in an open space,” added Joshua Fried of Williamsburg, “I think it’s refrigerated and that affects the smell.”

“It smells like that everyday,” added Charlie M. of Queens, who rides the line each day.

“It smells like a dead body, that’s exactly what a dead body smells like,” added another rider, who did not want to give her name.

And While We’re At It, We’ll Make An Honest Woman Out Of Your Baby Momma, Too

Ladies, there’s still time to convince your man that the free gown is worth it:

You live together, you have kids together, but married you’re not. Author Maryann Reid wants to change your status.

Reid is looking for 10 couples with kids in the New York City area who would like to tie the knot next fall on the second Marry Your Baby Daddy Day. The first one, back in 2005, was a huge success, she said.

“All ten couples are still married. Many went on to buy houses, to change jobs, and one wife told me communication is much better,” said Reid, who lives in Brooklyn. “We want to keep replicating this.”

The author of the novel “Marry Your Baby Daddy,” Reid, 31, is single, but passionate about preserving marriage and strengthening two-parent homes.

. . .

Marry Your Baby Daddy Day promises free designer gowns, wedding cakes, limos and other perks to the couples selected for the Sept. 27 event.

Hundreds applied to be the 10 selected in 2005, Reid said. Some went on to wed even though they weren’t chosen for the event.

Interviews are conducted to select the participants.

“These aren’t surprise weddings,” Reid said. “I have some women who call and say, ‘I don’t want to tell my boyfriend because I don’t know if I’m going to be selected.’ I say, ‘You’d better tell him tonight because we need to meet you and him.”

Worth A Shot

Apparently stealing real estate is harder than we thought:

A Brooklyn man was arrested yesterday on charges that he fraudulently tried to claim ownership of the SoHo Grand Hotel, one of the premier inns in Lower Manhattan and the scene of oh-so-many gossip items about celebrities in illicit entanglements.

The man, Kouadio Kouassi, 46, filed a deed with the city showing himself as the hotel’s owner, but it was not processed because it lacked signatures, officials said.

When Mr. Kouassi returned to see if he had been declared the rightful owner, a Department of Finance employee believed something suspicious was afoot and notified the city Department of Investigation.

But, apparently undaunted and bent on claiming the prized property, Mr. Kouassi returned several more times to get his deed processed, officials said.

City investigators contacted the hotel’s true owners, the Hartz Group, which said it had never heard of Mr. Kouassi and had no intention of giving him the hotel, valued at $76 million, according to city records.

“We think that since we bought the land, built the hotel and have run it for 12 years that we actually own the hotel,” said Ron Simoncini, a spokesman for Hartz.

. . .

Mr. Kouassi was charged with attempted grand larceny and offering a false instrument for filing. The authorities said he was in custody last night and had not yet hired a lawyer. If convicted, he will face up to 15 years in jail.

Here’s A Tip . . .

Then again, if you’re reading newspaper articles on December 29 to figure out how much to tip your doorman, it’s probably hopeless:

End-of-season tipping can be fraught with anxiety at large Manhattan buildings. This year, there was out-and-out conflict at one Upper West Side building, where resident manager Efrain Lopez confirmed last week that staff members had been suspended after changing locks on the lockboxes where they receive holiday gratuities.

Management at the Columbia Condominium, at 275 W. 96th St., last year set up individual boxes for staff to receive gratuities, with each employee receiving a key. In prior years, envelopes from residents to employees were dropped into a common box that lay behind the front desk, under video supervision.

This year, three employees, concerned that the same keys were being used as last year, decided to have the locks changed on their boxes. They were dissatisfied with security precautions to protect their tips from theft or loss.

On December 11, the management company disciplined them, suspending two and giving one a warning. All three are now back at work, the director of communications for SEIU Local 32BJ, which represents building service employees, Matt Nerzig, said. The union is looking into the matter and has filed a grievance, he said.

. . .

A doorman at a building with about 100 apartments in the West 90s told The New York Sun most tips he receives are in the $50 to $150 range. He said often the most demanding residents tip least. “That’s a true statement,” he added, “You can ask any doorman.”

(Last year I think we got the tipping thing straightened out a little earlier . . . thanks for nothing!)

A Million-Plus Dollar Conifer Empire, Its Sordid Tale Finally Told

If you think the Christmas tree business is all about the sweet smell of pine and hot French-Canadians, think again:

There are a series of secretive cash drops, about three cell phone numbers and a land line that connect the street force to cash managers and suppliers, specific phone calls that need to be made after the border crossing, and a boss known by some as the “Myth.” Welcome to the Christmas tree business in New York City.

Kevin Hammer, the man behind the majority of sidewalk tree stands in the city, runs a cash-only conifer enterprise that some former and current employees say grosses more than a million dollars during the month-long holiday season.

Although Mr. Hammer’s mostly French-Canadian workforce has been specifically instructed not to speak publicly about his business practices, several of Mr. Hammer’s experienced tree-sellers, asking to remain anonymous in fear of not getting paid, spoke with The New York Sun to explain how the city’s largest Christmas tree business operates.

“Everything is very organized and incredibly secretive,” one tree seller who works for Mr. Hammer said.

. . .

Every day, a “collector” arrives at the stand in a SUV with Florida license plates. He pulls up at an unannounced time after the tree-seller has called a number with a 212 area code saying how much cash was collected for the day.

When the collector arrives, the tree seller approaches the car with an envelope full of cash from the day’s sales up his or her jacket sleeve, according to the source. The “drop” includes a daily cash report worksheet printed in both English and French and is passed to the “collector” through the passenger side window. Conversation is usually brief.

. . .

One of Mr. Hammer’s former employees who currently works for another tree business in the city said the average tree-stand grosses about $30,000 a season, of which Mr. Hammer promises employees 50% of the profit after expenses.

“There is no way of knowing the expenses,” the source said. “You don’t know the cost of each tree.”

Tree-sellers receive cash payments from Mr. Hammer’s staff on the night of December 24, after excess trees have been collected and stands have been dismantled. The amount varies each year, and tree-sellers on the same team sometimes get paid different wages.

. . .

Tree prices at Mr. Hammers stands vary dramatically, and are dependent on the location of the stand. Buyers in affluent neighborhoods generally pay more for trees.

“We’re told to get the highest price possible, but to always sell the trees even if we get bargained down,” the source currently working for Mr. Hammer said.

Mr. Hammer did not return phone messages from the Sun.