Summertime New Yorker

New York and I are on awfully good terms lately. More than that, really. I think I might be in love. My breath catches and my heart beats fast-fast-fast, and I grin goofily for no reason other than simply being here. I wish I could time-travel a few months and tell myself, ‘It’s not that you don’t like New York. Just wait until summer!’

Here are some of the ways New York has given me butterflies lately:

+ I ate an awful street bagel with Issy in front of Zara, kicking myself because we could have gone to about a million other bagel carts in a three-block radius. There are millions of everything here! Friends come visit you here!

+ I scored big at the Zara semi-annual sale before going to work. By ‘scored big’, I mean I got a shirt for $9. The point is I can eat breakfast on the street and go shopping before work just like all the wimyn in the rom-coms.

+ I’m hot. Like all of the time. Except when I’m cold because the A/C on the subway is too high, but then it’s only for like five minutes. I think sweat suits me.

+ The other day I passed three frozen yogurt places and four nail salons in a two-block distance on the same side of the street. I don’t even know what was on the other side of the street because I was too busy comparing mani-pedi prices to notice. (The mani-pedi prices are as follows: $35, $30, $26, and $20.99, in case you’re curious.)

+ The man who works at my favorite fruit stand remembered I love mangoes and gave me free bananas. The boy who works at my subway stop’s newsstand is my friend. We talk about his high school, energy drinks, and how now that he is getting transferred to another newsstand, we’ll be L-train friends instead of newsstand friends.


This neon sign. New York just tells it like it is, y’all.

+ Before I wrote this post, I saw a middle-school boy mapping out what exhibits he was going to see at the Natural History Museum. He was going by himself. While I was writing this post, I watched a respectable gentleman in a business suit reach into a trash can and pull out a copy of the New York Times. While I was writing this post, I saw a womyn wearing a pastel stained-glass skirt I had when I was sixteen. I got it an Ann Taylor because I wanted to feel confident when I took the PSAT. Yes, I shopped at Ann Taylor in high school. It was one of the few places that had a Petites department, and sometimes a girl needs something a little dressy for Spelling Team competitions or standardized tests, okay? My point is:  PEOPLE. All kinds of people doing all kinds of things all day every day. I’d always suspected this, but now I know: my favorite animal is the human.

+ I realized that New York is the city of ‘No’. No bathrooms, no space, no warning before the MTA interrupts train service, no money in my bank account, nothing for free, no street without litter, no air conditioning, no effective communication of the many, many silly rules. But somehow, all these no’s add up to a big YES. It’s like New York is a paaaaaaain, and I am a paaaaaaain; so we understand each other.

Summertime New Yorker

3 thoughts on “Summertime New Yorker

  1. Anda says:

    That sign!!!! Oh my god, it so perfectly epitomizes life here. That and the daily struggle between my general overwhelming fondness for the city & its populace, and the urge (fulfilled more often than not) of flipping off most people most of the time.

    P.S. If you’re in need of a corrective experience, let’s go to Bageltería this weekend.


    1. but isn’t great to live in a city where you can flip off anyone at anytime, and it’s nbd? i forgot to list that as one of the reasons i like it here.


      p.s. yes to bageltería. it has been far too long since someone ridiculed me for having ova.

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