David Schickler, Kissing in Manhattan, 2001.

M.K. recommended this odd collection of not-quite-linked short stories to me. Schickler varies between a writing style of almost-realism to a style of outright magic-realism; I'm not sure which I preferred. The characters are an odd bunch; the satire is peculiar, and often biting. It was an enjoyable read, and the building that is at least peripherally important to most of the stories would be an interesting one in which to live. I think I may need to re-read some of the stories before I return this book to the library. The one firm thought I have is that Schickler seems to have first come to attention in The New Yorker, and that his stories seem to me to fit perfectly into that slightly off-kilter ilk.