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"No. Brooklyn does not like you."
Prospect Park isn't a bar per se, but anyone who's slipped a flask or sixer in their picnic basket can attest that the green space is indeed Brooklyn's largest - and most diverse - outdoor drinking venue. Poets, joggers, West Indian-American Day parade
goers, drum circle hippies, college sunbathers, Hasidic Jews, bums; the porta-john overlooking the Long Meadow from Prospect Park's northeast corner serves a wide cross-section park visitors. But not everyone is ready to hold hands and go tumbling barefoot through the grass together. Graffiti is usually anonymous; in this case it's also hard to identify the intended recipient. Is it a meme to the carpetbaggers who've taken over neighborhoods surrounding the park? To Jamaican nannies that hog up all the benches? Or to people who walk in the Prospect Park West bike lane