|What does it all mean? -Existential Pigeon|
To visitors, New Yorkers probably seem like complete unfriendly douche bags with their face buried in their phone or a scowl for you because you're holding them up on their way to work or Afro-yoga class. Truth be told it takes a bit of a hard shell to simply survive a typical NYC day. If I reacted as any decent human would to each cardboard sign explaining a personal hardship or speech to a crowd of strangers about the struggles life has dealt I would be a walking open wound leaking out emotions all over 5th Avenue. We tune out with headphones, books or simply avoidance of eye contact at all costs as a coping mechanism. Pride surfaces when we announce how many years we have "survived" New York. However when it comes to a middle of the road girl like myself, not poor, but never going to be NYC rich, I wonder what is the end game? Survive NYC for 20 years then give up the game for the suburbs OR press on and hope I meet someone doing well enough so we can combine incomes and claim a handful of square feet on Manhattan proper where we will fork over our hard earned money for $12 boxes of cereal and gym memberships that we are gonna start using soon. Are the riches of culture, public transportation and food at all hours of night worth the daily survival of rush hour, noise pollution and unlimited smells?
Recently I had to get a large garbage bag full of costumes from Queens to the Lower East Side via the subway. Between way too many flights of stairs, turnstiles and people the struggle was real. It led me to complain to my friend and former roommate, "Everything is so hard here!". Imagine if I was in the suburbs. It would have gone something like this: heave bag in car, drive car to destination, pull bag out of car. Oh, but who takes pride in surviving suburbia??
Having watched Breakfast At Tiffany's for the first time (can't believe it took me this long) I realized I'm like Holly Golightly. I'm clinging to my faux fabulous Manhattan life with all 10 manicured fingernails. That's my plan until I find a city that matches me as well.
New York you are my garbage splashed glass slipper!
Here's another blogger who's feeling my pain.