Aug 31, 2010
Coming back home after your holidays it means you have to go through a certain process that in New York it looks like this:
- You get invited to a rooftop party, drink over the skyline and smile of happiness.
- You see two rats bigger than a cat jumping off a trash can.
- You take a cab and almost die in the ride.
- You walk through Brooklyn and bump into a hidden and wonderful concert.
- You pay $ 2,50 for a very bad coffee. It feels totally obnoxious.
- You walk around the city with a wig on your way to a party and nobody cares.
- Your cellphone rings and it's AT&T announcing they are about to shut down your service.
- Three new shops have opened in your street while you were away. None of them looks good but you immediately think your landlord will want to increase your rent.
- You wake up on a Monday morning, eat a bagel, glance at the cover of the Post at your local deli, buy the Times, put it in the bag, and then read the free subway paper on your way to work while looking at all these very serious commuters. Many contradictory thoughts come to mind at that very moment: "How beautiful it would be if all these people could learn how to smile; I love looking at people in the subway; so many fat people; so many beautiful people; what an amazing weekend I had; I love my friends; somebody stole my wallet on Friday night, I can't buy a metrocard!; I hate New York; I love New York". Now you know it: you are back home.