Nina In New York: The Real Bar For Pregnant Women
A lighthearted look at news, events, culture and everyday life in New York. The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.
______________
By Nina Pajak
Much hay has been made lately about an empty East Village storefront featuring signs which excitedly announce the coming of "Gestations: NYC's First Bar for Pregnant Women." There's now even a billboard in Times Square with an image of a hugely pregnant woman wearing a sportsbra and joyously popping a bottle of champagne. According to CBS New York and a spate of other websites who've picked up the scent of this weirdness, it seems pretty clear that this is a fake business being used to drum up attention for something else, and it really doesn't matter what. The marketing ploy is deliberately crass, and this strategy is working like a charm. Now everyone knows to watch that space for what's actually coming, and lots of people have read about and checked out Gestations on social media to see what they're about.
Many are deeply offended, which is to be expected. Of course, fetal alcohol syndrome is no laughing matter. But anyone who thinks Gestations is actually encouraging pregnant binge drinking or will at any point facilitate it is missing the (stupid) point. It's not real, people! Move on. Whether or not you find it funny is more at issue here, and nobody cares. They've already gotten what they wanted by enraging the gullible and earnest.
Except that amid all this manufactured controversy, there's an important idea being overlooked: what about a bar for pregnant women? No, I am not proposing what my mother would refer to as "one of those drinking places." Although I don't think having the occasional glass of wine or beer while in the family way is anything so criminal, that's not what I'm after. A bar for pregnant women could be so many things! I've got a loose concept going. My "Gestations" would be sort of a refuge for preggos, providing both sustenance, relaxation, and entertainment. You know, the usual: mani/pedis, shoulder rubs, scalp massages, milkshakes, pickles, gummy bears, pizza, grilled cheese, baked ziti, cheesy toast, pizza bagels, cheese omelets, cheese fries, mozzarella sticks. But there's so much more.
No single item in the bar will violate any of the many confusing, conflicting rules for eating while pregnant. All meat will be heated to steaming. No nitrates. Or nitrites! Only pasteurizated products. No deli. Lots of spicy stuff, and also lots of foods which old wives claim cure heartburn. No raw anything. No mercury. No trans-fats. Lots of iron. SO MUCH FOLIC ACID.
Unlimited Tums and other fine antacids will be served gratis with all meals.
Nail work will be performed in abundant ventilation. Pedicurists will be specially trained to be sure their foot rubs don't induce labor—or do, if that's what you want.
Footrests for everyone! Body pillows welcome.
"Mocktails" that kind of taste like actual, fun cocktails and not just cranberry juice with a splash of lime and soda.
Televisions will be airing marathons of trashy shows which require absolutely no attention span or cognitive ability to comprehend. No ASPCA commercials will be shown.
More importantly, no one in my pregnancy bar will be permitted to say any of the following things, lest they risk expulsion:
"Wow, you still have ___ months left? I thought you were ready to pop!"
"Are you sure it's not twins/triplets/quadruplets?"
"You think you have it bad . . . "
"My sister's roommate's sister's sister-in-law knows a woman who reminds me of you so much and lost her baby in the following freakish, unlikely, and horrific way."
"Oh, gosh, your poor ankles."
"I think it's a boy/girl! I don't care what you think/what your ultrasound technician said, I had four kids."
"I just love being pregnant and am completely physically comfortable, well-rested and not stressed out in any way."
You get the picture.
If Gestations is still deciding what to be, I freely offer my ideas. If anyone else cares to listen, I promise to deliver some customers when you turn my dream into a reality.
Nina Pajak is a writer living with her husband, daughter and dog in Queens. Connect with Nina on Twitter!
