Post-Modern Drunk: Ten Years in The City
Today is the 10 year anniversary of my moving to NYC.

After six months in NYC, I started referring to "pop" as "soda."

At nine months, I had the convention down, and I started saying the street name before the avenue "40th and 5th. 57th and 7th."

In less than a year, "convenience store" became "bodega."

At about 18 months, for my sanity's sake, I learned to stop falling in love with every beautiful girl on the subway, and started wanting to just be left alone with my thoughts, no matter what.

By year two, "the City" meant New York City, and nothing else.

By year three, "The City" meant just Manhattan."

At some point, early on, waiting for a green light turned into jaywalking...

...which turned into "Why don't you fuck off back to Jersey!" at any cars that dared to honk as I crossed.

At year four, I was kicked in the back of the head by one of those fucking kids breakdancing on the 6 train during Rush Hour.

At year five, I was punched in the head by a kid, part of a group of kids trying to run off with my date's purse.

Around that time, I started biking in the cities. I learned that it was possible to make obscene gestures while changing lanes.

I have lived in six different apartments.

I have gotten used to spending $14 on a cocktail, $12 for a burger, and, occasionally, more than a month's rent for a single meal for two.

But throughout all this, I still stand "in line" rather than "on line."

---

«« (back)				(forward) »»
the onion and the c word				took my chances on a big jet plane

---