truvy
Friday, January 25, 2002
New York, New York, Big City of Dreams
There is a new ad on the side of a phone booth I pass every day on my way from the subway to the office that says: "Accessorize your Poodle. 'Borrow your neighbor's paper.' Cut in line. Don't stop being New Yorkers." It's posted by some ad agency, and I LOVE it! I know people have been through a hell of a lot since the attack, and to view where the WTC was (where I used to work) and to speak to friends and colleagues who've lost people is powerful, devastating, sobering, mind-fucking.
But you know, some days I am so fucking sick of everyone being so nice. Some days I long for, and encounter!, rude, crass and pushy New Yorkers. I love barrelling down the sidewalk against the flow of salmon emerging from the train station, swimming upstream to get to work in a frenzy. I love the thrill, the rush, the excitement of every conceivable type of person in NYC, everyone trying to get ahead, or some days just survive. I love the opportunity, the challenge, the fierceness of it all (see Sturtle's NYC fierceness). I love New York, but not for the fucking Disneyfication of it all, for the immediacy, the importance, the vitality.
Also the ability to order in just about anything - I love that too.
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