It’s hard to explain what happens to someone when they live in a ski town with one road in or out. It’s like cabin fever with an added twist of Stockholm Syndrome. This is a great place to live… but sometimes you just have to get out. So I ran away to New York for a few days. I had some US cash from tips and whatnot, so I hardly used my credit card… or bank account for that matter.
I spent an embarrassing amount of time getting turned around while looking for Central Park this last trip to New York City. Although, bonus: I figured out that I was just walking out of the subway platform having no idea which corner I was on. Being on the SW corner when you want to be on the NE side can really mess up your directions.
I didn’t mind though: there are few places in the world that you can just… not mind getting lost. There is always something happening to everyone, all of the time in the city. Hearing half sentences as I walk past police officers, construction workers, office workers, banter between people who are so close - be it through coworking, cohabiting, or just the familiarity of friendship that we all know. The New York Accent (whatever that means in a city with over 800 languages) has a sharp edge on it.
That’s the only way to describe it. They can tell you to go fuck yourself with a smile on their face, and it’s hard to say which of the two is more sincere.
