If the television show “That Girl,” about the adventures of a working single gal in New York City in the late 1960s, were updated for the 21st century, it might be based on the collection of essays in Sloane Crosley's book “I Was Told There'd Be Cake.”

Crosley has published essays in Playboy, Salon, New York Times and Village Voice.

Her biography brags that she wrote the cover story for the worst-selling issue of Maxim magazine in its history.

It is that sardonic sense of humor that pervades her book. Focusing on her life in New York City, her essays provide several chuckles and some big guffaws as she describes maneuvering through life as a single young woman in a big city.

The first essay “The Pony Problem” poses the question of how, in the event of her untimely death, her apartment (and by extension her life) would be viewed by the people who had to clean it out. Would they be repelled by her unmade bed, dirty dishes in the sink, bras drying on the shower curtain rod, dust balls under the bed?

And what would they think when they found her collection of plastic ponies in her kitchen drawer? Her collection began because of her “constant referencing of ponies.” While hosting a dinner party, she would ask if she could get anyone anything else: “coffee, tea, a pony?”

When a man tells her that he has a special present for her on a first date, she asks “is it a pony?” You get the picture. To show that they have been paying attention to what she had been saying, several men purchased plastic ponies as gifts for Sloane. After the relationships had long since ended, Sloane still had the ponies to remember her boyfriends.

One of the funniest essays in the book is titled “The Ursula Cookie.” The first sentence of the essay is “There is a point in most abusive relationships when it occurs to the beaten party that they are guilty of putting their face in the way of someone else's fist.”

The essay describes Sloane's first big-time job. She fell in love with the woman interviewing her, and she believed Ursula felt the same about her. They talked for two hours about book publishing, Iowa, the art of the short story. They were both Leos and liked bad Mexican food.

Sloane became Ursula's assistant, and looked forward to learning about book publishing from this incredible woman. Things went well until week two, when Sloane lost a phone message. After being scolded, Sloane thought things would return to normal.

It went downhill from there. Ursula would write letters on the back of restaurant receipts and expect Sloane to be able to transcribe it. When she couldn't, there was hell to pay.

At least once a day Ursula would ask Sloane to look for a lost object, threatening Sloane with “you'd better find it or else.” Sloane would spend hours looking for the object, only to have Ursula say, “Oh, that? I actually found that on my desk hours ago.” The boss from hell led to Sloane's plummeting self esteem.

Living in New York City has its challenges and rewards. In “The Beauty of Strangers,” Sloane tells of the first time it happened to her; she was 22 years old when she left her wallet in the back of a cab. The next day, a man showed up at her apartment with the wallet and all of its contents intact.

She claims that she is lucky, that this exact same thing has happened to her six times, and each time the wallet has shown up in her mailbox. (This luck did not, however, extend to her roommate, who had his bike stolen from their fifth floor balcony. At least they left his helmet.)

Crosley states that everyone she knows who has lived in the city his or her entire life has been mugged at least twice, but not her. When she felt someone right behind her, she knew her time had come. A strange female hand reached out, touched her arm and said “sorry, but,” then tucked her errant clothing tag back into her shirt collar. Lucky again!

She believes that “simple kindness has always been New York's best-kept secret, kept quiet to keep the tourists out.” She calls it a basic sympathy for fellow urban dwellers, which she says is a “do unto others type of selfishness.”

“I probably would not leap in front of a crosstown bus for anyone only because I wouldn't expect anyone to do that for me,” states Crosley. But return a lost wallet? That is something anyone would want done for them, and so it happens frequently. It is something “organic about the way the city works.”

Other essays discuss the author's efforts to have a one-night stand, her stint volunteering at the butterfly exhibit at the Museum of Natural History and a hilarious one about being asked to be a bridesmaid at the wedding of a childhood friend with whom she has had no contact in more than 10 years.

Crosley writes of the events in her life to which we can all relate. While moving into a new apartment in New York, she locks herself out of not only her old apartment, but her new apartment as well, all in the same day, requiring the same locksmith to rescue her twice at $280 a pop.

Her family relationships are relatable as well. Her mother is a hoot. When a teenage Sloane finds a different diamond engagement ring in her mother's jewelry case, her mother casually mentions that it came from her first husband Richard. First husband? Why has Sloane never heard of this before? It only frustrates her more to find that her sister knew of this marriage.

Sloane Crosley has drawn comparisons to David Sedaris and Sarah Vowell. Her humor is in that vein, and people who like them will no doubt enjoy Crosley as well. If you want to get a feel for what it is like to live as a young single person in New York, “I Was Told There'd Be Cake” will give that to you. I give it four stars, with a note of caution that it is a bit racy.

Diane La Rue is a member of the National Book Critics Circle. Her lifelong goal is to read one book per week. She can be reached at laruediane2000@yahoo.com

If you read

What: “I Was Told There'd Be Cake”

Who: Sloane Crosley

Publisher: Riverhead Books

Cost: $14, paperback