On our first night in the city – a Saturday – we took a tour of the harbor and ate overpriced pasta on the pier. Afterwards we discovered the waterfront of Battery Park City, an area full of frisbee, dogs, and strollers. My Frommer’s Guide to New York City With Kids had highlighted the playground just two blocks from our hotel as a key perk. It didn’t disappoint.

Our kids jumped, climbed, and slid down the fireman’s pole with the real city kids while my husband and I found a bench to relax and keep an eye on them. With the sun setting, kids laughing, and dogs barking, we felt at home. Just like a couple of locals.

“I could totally live here,” I told  my husband.

Three very cool teenaged girls - the kind you might see on one of those reality shows I’m too old to know the name of – approached the playground equipment. The tallest, longest-haired, hottest-bodied of the three immediately grasped the pole directly in front of us and began to demonstrate to her friends how to work it. Twirling, sliding, grinding - clearly, she had been practicing.

My husband squirmed and averted his eyes while I searched my pockets for ones.

The closest thing we have to this sort of free entertainment in the suburbs is when one of our drunken friends hosts one of those parties where you’re supposed to buy your own personal stripper pole at the end and install it in your bedroom where your children certainly would never have the curiosity to ask hey mom, why’re you hanging off that pole? Though I have never personally been to one of those parties, I have heard stories from people who were sober enough to remember the evening’s events.

And to my friend who actually had one of these built into her new house from the upstairs down into the laundry room. Sure it’s for the kids to slide down. Mmhmm. That’s why the laundry room has a chaise lounge and a deadbolt.

It’s not for me to say how people do or do not relate to metal objects. I just wanted you to know that the Frommer’s Guide doesn’t list everything.