24-Hour Daven People

Not as cool as a drive-thru synagogue but close:

At 10 o’clock on a recent Thursday night, the corner of 53rd Street and 13th Avenue in the heart of Borough Park was bustling with traffic. In this neighborhood, an ultra-Orthodox stronghold for the past decade, a sea of religious Jews clad in traditional black and white garb scurried in every direction for late-night prayer, shopping or something to eat. This corner of Brooklyn never sleeps, or so it seems.

The main attraction is Congregation Shomrei Shabbos, a 24-hour synagogue where a service begins every 15 minutes. What started more than three-quarters of a century ago as a tiny congregation has grown into a mainstay of this community: transit hub, soup kitchen, community center, bookstore and prayer hall all in one.

The late-night traffic generated by the synagogue has spilled onto the streets, so much so that over the past few years a neighborhood has literally grown up around it. Restaurants and stores are open long past midnight. Peddlers vie for street space in the wee hours. Religious music streams from a small boombox. Men stop their cars in the middle of darkened streets to announce the birth of a child.

Even in a city renowned for the hours it keeps, the late-night liveliness here is remarkable.

. . .

Thanks to all this activity, the once-inconspicuous synagogue is now a trigger for local nightlife.

“Real estate surrounding the synagogue is in high demand,” said Mendy Handler, owner of Cellular 4 Less, one of several local businesses that stay open past midnight to attract late-night synagogue-goers. His busiest hours are from 6 p.m. to midnight. “People can drop off their phones to be fixed while they are praying next door,” said Sol Oberlander, the store’s manager.

Other businesses have followed suit. Copy Corner stays open until midnight, as does Gal Paz, a music store. Sub Express, a kosher fast-food restaurant whose menu includes what is described as a unique “brisket egg roll,” keeps its doors open until 1 a.m.

And It’s Just A Matter Of Time Before Female Mud Wrestling* Is Fully Rehabilitated

Williamsburg hipsters — that cynical and fully debased class of people that represents exactly why they hate our freedom — move from post-modern post-feminist:

It may not have the draw and commercial viability of the NFL yet. But the PFL — the Pillow Fight League — is making its U.S. debut tonight in front of a sold-out crowd at Williamsburg’s Galapagos (and repeating the feat tomorrow night).

The Toronto-based group is staging its World Championship between Betty Clock’er and Champain. New York ladies in the audience will be invited to participate in amateur matches, as well.

“This isn’t about a trained opera singer or people trained in fights,” said Matt Harsant, 31, a PFL producer and senior referee. “It’s about you and your neighbor and your sister and aunt kicking off her heels and getting into the ring. We say, ‘Real women, real fights.'”

The five-minute bouts can get pretty nasty with drop kicks and smothering — though there’s a five-second time limit on smothering. Almost anything goes as long as the pillow makes the first point of contact. The goal is to pin down an opponent for three seconds.

“It’s derived from mixed martial arts, judo, boxing and good, old-fashioned catfights,” Harsant said.

*Time was, positive voices of conscience — Phranc, for example! — unironically decried Female Mud Wrestling . . . obviously that was so 1986.

The Constitutionally Protected Parachute Jump

The framers of the constitution weren’t able to anticipate many things including, for example, jumping off of skyscapers:

In an eight-page decision, state Supreme Court Judge Michael Ambrecht dismissed a felony charge of reckless endangerment against a California stuntman, Jeb Corliss, because his conduct, “while dangerous and ill-conceived, does not rise to the level of depraved indifference” and is, in fact, “constitutionally protected freedom of expression.”

Mr. Corliss, 30, was arrested last April as he was about to dive off the Empire State Building, which is 1,453 feet tall. He concealed his parachute inside a “fat suit” to get through the building’s metal detectors, and made it as far as the ledge on the 86th floor’s observation deck before security guards and police handcuffed him to a fence.

. . .

Mr. Corliss’s lawyer, Mark Heller, said his client had meticulously prepared for the jump by analyzing traffic patterns, wind conditions, and other risks. He has made more than 1,000 jumps in 16 different countries, including from the Petronas Towers in Malaysia, Mr. Heller said.

For Mr. Corliss, BASE jumping, which refers to leaping from bridge, antenna, span, and earth, is a creative act, Mr. Heller said.

“When he jumps off of a building, he moves his body in different directions, flips and turns, and flies through the air with the greatest of ease,” he said. “This is his way of expressing himself.”

. . .

Mr. Heller called the decision a “landmark case” that may allow anyone to jump from a tall building or structure without facing consequences.

Location Scout: Empire State Building.

The Pool On How Long It Takes For This Storyline To Make It Into Law & Order Starts Now

The antiques dealer who filed a $1 million lawsuit to keep a group of homeless away from his store seems to have succeeded in drawing attention to the matter:

The dealer, Karl Kemp, who owns Karl Kemp & Associates at 833 Madison Avenue near 69th Street, says he has put up with the group, in particular one bearded homeless man and his “island” of filthy belongings, for more than two years and hopes the suit will compel the city to have them removed from the area.

Besides seeking $1 million in damages — the dealer’s lawyer said he put in a figure for legal reasons — the suit also asks for a restraining order requiring them to stay at least 100 feet from the store.

. . .

Allan Schiller, Mr. Kemp’s lawyer, said the lawsuit was a last resort by Mr. Kemp in an effort to resolve something he had been dealing with for two years.

Mr. Kemp, Mr. Schiller said, has even asked the owner of the building that houses the store to remove or reroute the heating duct outside the building to deter the homeless from seeking its warmth. But nothing has worked, Mr. Schiller said.

. . .

Mr. Schiller, the lawyer, said: “They’re not really breaking any law besides being vagrants, and it’s my understanding that vagrancy really isn’t a reason to pick anyone up anymore. The fact is, they are creating a nuisance by standing in front of you constantly. You are not my guest. I did not invite you here. And they have attached themselves to my client’s property.”

Jose Perez, who works at Cesare Paciotti, a shoe store next to Mr. Kemp’s shop, said the bearded man who seemed to be the focus of Mr. Kemp’s complaints never bothered any of his store’s customers. “He has a very bad smell,” Mr. Perez said. “But besides that he causes no problem. We never asked him to leave.”

Next Generation Coin-Operated Electric Shoe Buffers

Because sometimes while out dancing or enjoying a pasta dish you’ll find your hair has a little too much frizz:

It’s hard to know what goes on behind bathroom stalls in New York City nightclubs, but starting next month denizens of the night will have one more service they can purchase there — hair straightening.

Aimed at women and men who want to de-frizz their locks while out on the town, the machines are already popular at nightspots all across London and other cities in the United Kingdom.

The wall-mounted hair-straightening flat iron machines charge patrons a small fee for use. In England, the service costs a pound for 90 seconds; here in New York, businessmen are thinking of charging a dollar for 60 seconds. The machines here would accept bills.

. . .

The manager of an Italian eatery in Murray Hill called Bistango Restaurant, Anthony Avellino, said he would consider installing a flat iron machine in his restaurant. “Being that I have three daughters who use straightening irons all the time,” Mr. Avellino said. “I think it could be an added plus.” Others in the industry, however, aren’t so keen on the idea of placing hot ceramic tongs in the hands of customers who may be inebriated.

“It sounds dangerous,” a bartender at Rogue Restaurant and Bar in midtown, Jessica Freeborn, said, “I don’t know if America is ready for hair straighteners in bathrooms.”