It truly is a rare thing to be able to help the world in a constructive way all on your own.  Many have tried, but few have actually succeeded.  In fact, I can't at this moment think of a good example of anyone who might fit the bill.  Except for myself, of course.  Yes, that's right.  I did some good for the world at large; I gave selflessly of my experience and my knowledge, and most importantly my time, to ensure that others have it a little bit easier than I did.

But what on earth could I be talking about, you might wonder, considering that I have virtually no known talents and minimal expertise in all things.  Mostly, that's a fair assessment of my life so far, but it doesn't account for the thing that I truly do excel at.  And that is drinking.  Yes, from an early age, I have stood out from my peers in this realm.  And not unlike Act I of a beautiful and sentimental coming-of-age story, I acted selfishly.  I drank for myself, I did not consider others and what my drinking might do for them.  Last week, that all changed.

Let me go back a little bit.  At some point in the fall, that bastion of knowledge that is Time Out New York ran something called "the Ultimate Bar Guide."  Because the economy is collapsing and people are getting laid off left and right in the land of opportunity, the story had an "unemployed people" angle to it - it used the preferences of various job-less new yorkers as a jumping off point, although the end result was a pretty standard bar guide.

Here's where I step in.  As a practically unemployed person, and given my qualities as a drinker, I am very well-versed in what a bar should and should not be.  The stars aligned and I had a revelation about what Time Out left out of their story.  Here is the letter to the editor that I sent that day:

subject: what's lacking in the ultimate bar guide

body: the unemployed people angle was great for your ultimate bar guide, but you missed an important point.   when i was laid off in march, i spent many a slow afternoon at a bar, but i still needed to stay connected to the world via the internet.  thus, my bar priorities shifted around and free wifi became a bar's most important feature.  leaving free wifi out of your bar guide is big disservice to all the unemployed folks out there.

Here is the response I got from TONY's features editor:

Hi Matt,

We've decided to do a story based on this email, a roundup of good bars for doing work. I'd like to run an edited version of the letter at the top of the story - that ok?

Thanks!

Pretty sweet, and you're welcome.  Of course, when I responded that they could use my letter if I was allowed to contribute to the story I was completely ignored.

The story itself ran in last week's Time Out New York.  After all the back and forth, I was pretty psyched to actually see it in print, about as happy as a World of Warcraft player finally allowed to lead a guild meeting.  I felt like I had come into my own, and all that annoyance over not being allowed to contribute dissipated.

But after I read it, all that irritation came back like snake eyes on fifteen-sided dice.  They could have easily said to me: give us 50 words on a bar that isn't one of these and we'll see about including it.  But no, just the brush off.  And, while they did a pretty good job, they left out the absolute best bar in the city for doing work: Lakeside Lounge.  Tim and I have often worked there over many a pint and just look at the result!  Lakeside is responsible for at least half of the good ideas we've had.  The genius of Lakeside is that, besides the mid-day beer specials and general quiet of the place, there is a restaurant just to the south of it, and if you sit on the north side of that restaurant, you can pick up Lakeside's free wi-fi signal before they even open.  Genius.  And I think the people of New York could have used that info.  The old Matt would have been happy to keep my place a secret, but that selfish impulse is now gone, replaced by the glow of my magnanimity.  So, really, come on down some afternoon and say, hi.  I'll be the one in the back, sipping a pint of Bass, face illuminated by my computer.  Next round is on me.