You hear the train in the tunnel. And you really don't want to miss it. So you run up to the gate, quickly swipe your Metrocard, and rush through, only get an unyielding turnstile arm square in the stomach. It's your own fault, you realize; you swiped too quickly. So you do it again. And again. The train arrives, the doors open, and you're still on the wrong side of the gate, swiping and swiping and swiping. No luck, still. "Stand clear of the closing doors." More swiping. The thwack of the train doors closing. More swiping. The eerie, first-three-notes-of-"Somewhere" sound as the brakes release and the train accelerates. More swiping. The train is gone. And finally your Metrocard registers.

• Weirdo San Franciscan outfit Deerhoof play at Northsix tonight in Brooklyn. Look out for Intern Alexis — she'll be the one in the front row with the tatoos and hipster ear piercings, wishing she were Asian. [flavorpill]
• Bellis attempts to hawk Lunar Park in Brooklyn tonight, of all places. That is so not Upper East Side yuppie scum-appropriate. Oh, wait — he's reading in Cobble Hill. Nevermind. [NYM]
• We promise these are the two last Hurricane Katrina benefits we're ever posting: the one at Luke+Leroy has the Scissor Sisters; the one at Marquee (7-10pm) has an open bar. You make the decision. [Paper]

Sightings are sent in by readers; send yours to tips@gawker.com.

The long arm of the law has no mercy when it comes to Sandra Catena. The 47-year-old dance instructor learned that the hard way while daring to sit on a bench at the Rivington Playground. She was approached by two officers asking if she had any children with her; when she told them no, she was served with a convenient little ticket. Apparently, it's illegal for an adult to sit on a playground bench unless with children, and now Catena is looking at a $1000 fine and up to 90 days in jail.

The AP discovers today that real estate is expensive:

Prompted by the disaster in New Orleans and the current hurricane-a-week weather pattern, NYC Office of Emergency Management is gently reminding us all to always be prepared:

Well, you always knew no one goes there for the mediocre lectures.

• The creative minds behind The Daily Show screen a bunch of short films they made on topics as diverse as zombies in America, chainsaw-wielding maniacs, and the desperado lifestyle at the IFC Center. There will be a cocktail reception with the filmmakers themselves before the show, in case you like your movies viewed while drunk. We certainly do. [flavorpill]
• A magician, an erotic folksinger, and a naked guy with a fishbowl on his head, a prosthetic leg, and a cod-piece covering his genitalia are all part of "The Jonathan Ames Show," which debuts at Mo Pitkin's tonight at 8:30pm. The show s namesake is also featured prominently, which no longer goes without saying in matters concerning post-modern performance art. [JonathanAmes]
• Bad roommates, like bloggers, generally practice poor hygiene, are prone to erratic behavior and wild mood swings, often smell, rarely leave their apartments, and have poor interpersonal skills. Which is why the topic of this month's WYSIWYG blogger gabfest— The World's Worst Roommate — is so fitting. Write what you know, as they say. [Upcoming]

Look outside, Manhattan; is it not positively gorgeous outside? It's a beautiful, innocent fall day — MARRED BY TRAGEDY. Sound familiar? It should. Donald Trump has managed to ejaculate, yet again, in the womb of a beautiful woman. And today's Post insensitively reports the "happy news," as if we're to celebrate the impregnation of Melania Knauss, as if the spreading of that man's bombastic seed is a good thing?

Having trouble keeping track of New York's intermittently homosexual, bed-hopping (floe-hopping, maybe?) penguin population? We were, too. So thanks much to the reader with a copy of Quark and much too much time on his or her hands, who sent in this handy guide:

• Commedia dell Smartass is a Shakespearean romp through high school class hierarchy. Price of admission is up to you ($19 for the rest of the week), so if ever there was a time to be reminded of an era you mostly spent with your head shoved in a toilet, it's tonight. [flavorpill]
• Brit lit hottie Zadie Smith discusses her latest work, On Beauty, at Symphony Space; Freakonomics coauthor Stephen J. Dubner and Jonathan Miles read at Half King. Miles reads an "Ode to fights" essay he wrote for Men's Journal after punching an editor at a staff party — which we'd so pay good money to have seen. [TONY & Half King]
• Pick your favorite amateur video (not that kind, you filthy pervert) at UCB's "Channel 102" tonight, where you get to vote on your favorite 5-minute "TV pilot." The winning entry, unfortunately, doesn't take Joey's spot on NBC, but it does come back next week to square off against a whole new batch of submissions. [UCB]

It's Advertising Week in New York this week — which strikes us as a touch redundant — and it kicked off this morning with a "Procession of the Great Icons," in which all your favorite legendary advertising characters marched from Times Square to, natch, Madison Avenue. Adweek's AdFreak was there, and the 'Freaks provide some excellent coverage of the event — including photos of the Burger King, the Energizer Bunny, Tony the Tiger, Charlie the Tuna, the Keebler Elves, and even Juan Valdez.

Sightings are sent in by readers; send yours to tips@gawker.com.

As Robert Smithson's conceptual art piece "Floating Island" docked for the last time yesterday, its reign as New York's preeminent focus for inanity was briefly interrupted by a competing piece of conceptual art: A small motorboat containing a minature replica of this year's other major piece of high-profile absurdity, Jean-Claude and Christo's Gates. Alas, the mini-Gates did not find a home at the mini-park, but — at least for one day — we hated cheeky art students just a bit less.

You thought the plan to turn the Farley Post Office on Eighth Avenue into a new Penn Station had a powerful backer in Pat Moynihan. After he died, you thought it had an even more powerful backer in the politically savvy Moynihan family's invoking of his memory. But, reports the Sun the plan just picked up its most powerful backer yet.

Friday:
• The 43rd New York Film Festival is the biggest thing to hit Lincoln Center since, um, the CMJ Festival last week. Still, go check it out — nothing gets the intellectual masturbation going at a cocktail party faster than a discussion of Mitsuo Yanagimachi's "Who's Camus Anyway?" [flavorpill]
• The New Yorker Festival kicks off today as well, with a series of tandem readings (Michael Chabon and Stephen King! Zadie Smith and Jonathan Franzen! A.M. Homes and Jeffrey Eugenides!), a "High Rollers Steak Dinner" poker game, and a town hall-style meeting on Iraq. Your options are pretty much confined to the latter — everything else is sold out. [NYer]
Saturday:
• Evidently, one-hit wonders Nada Surf have been playing sold-out shows in Europe ever since they dropped that Popular song here and then sort of fell of the map. They play a free show in Williamsburg tonight to get things swinging stateside. [Paper]
• Speaking of popularity contests, ticket sales for today's lineup at the New Yorker Festival give us a good idea of whose on top of the totem poll: Malcolm Gladwell and Sasha Frere-Jones got it; fashion scribe Judith Thurman and police chief Raymond Kelly don't. Should have bought tickets earlier, culture snob. [NYer]
Sunday:
• Have you heard of the Shins? Dude, they ll totally change your life. The White Stripes, too. They're gonna be big. [flavorpill]

Find yourself with an overwhelming urge to repent in Midtown yesterday? That was because you heard in the distance the siren call of the shofar, bubeleh.

Sightings are sent in by our meth-loving readers; send yours to tips@gawker.com.

• Odds of Kate Moss being arrested for possession of cocaine: 4/5. We've no idea what that means, exactly, but it sure sounds stupid. [Oddjack]
• The LES Starbucks is off to a slow start. [Curbed]
• The kind of bar tab that dreams are made of. Dreams and vomit. And debt. [Young Manhattanite]
• NYC, EDGY as ever — maybe a bit too much so at this point. [Daily News]
• You know what Katrina victims need? A decent lapdance. [Sky]
• An update from the 92nd Street Y: No bomb scare, just a smoke alarm going off.

• The Daily Show's Rob Corddry, Letterman's Eddie Brill, and various other funny people take the stage at Mo Pitkins' tonight for a Katrina Benefit. Any leftover money will be sent to Texas to swell the coffers of the Hurricane Rita relief effort George Bush will inevitably bungle. [Upcoming]
• Found Magazine editor Davy Rothbart gives fiction a go at Galapagos tonight, where he reads from his new collection of stories. His brother, Peter, performs little ditties (Flavorpill s words, not ours) as he reads sure to provide enough fodder for semi-ironic musings on Williamsboard the next day. [flavorpill]
• Jen Bekman s Public Discourse, an in-depth study of illegal installation art, screens at the Pioneer Theater tonight. Everything you ever wanted to know about advertising manipulation, metal welding, guerrilla art, and more. [Two Boots]