New York City has a way of making you feel like a child. Well, a broke ass college student to be more exact. Most of us couldn't afford to live without roommates and our condiments are typically stolen from various delis and diners. We don't have mortgages, kids, lasting relationships, or washer dryers.
Sometimes I find it comical that after 28 years on this earth, what I do have are roaches, leaks, and a box of earplugs. The other night my roommates and I ordered pizza. When I went back into the kitchen an hour later to get a second slice, I saw a bunch of roaches run out of the box. Fantastic. Last night, every couple of seconds as I lay in bed reading, a few drops of water would sprinkle my face and book. My upstairs neighbor's air conditioner is leaking through my window. It's as if I'm at torture camp, having water trickled down my face until I slowly lose my mind. A few minutes later, on a Monday night, there were 3 guys singing and chanting fraternity cheers on the street below my window. It was so loud I thought there were 20 of them outside. I had to do it. I was one of those ornery ladies who yelled, "Shut the fuck up," out the window. "Oh go back and lick your cunt," they yelled back. Nice. Some more time passes, a few minutes after midnight, and I hear what sounds like a marching band. I looked out my window and did not see a parade or any signs of instruments, but I could hear horns, accordions, and trumpets as if it were St. Paddy's Day.
I put in my earplugs and thought to myself, "Oh, New York, it's funny how I still love you, no matter how much you piss me off." Perhaps, I realize, I've treated all of my relationships as if they were New York. I just put in my earplugs, roll over, and continue to love you, regardless of your flaws.
1 comment:
Like I always say, some cities are like a big hug, NYC is like a swift kick in the ass when you are already down. That's why if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.
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