Dear NYC,

First a disclaimer...I like you really really a lot. But I'm not a New Yorker. MY gut reaction is to hold doors for anyone in the immediate vicinity, smile at people on the street, and refer to people at sir and ma'am. I HAVE moved past constantly staring at the skyline and have picked up the skill of taking mental pictures of the more eccentric pedestrians for later review rather than blatantly staring...I suspect Yannick and Tom are growing weary of me suggesting they should ALSO try to acquire this skill.  I guess the past few days have been kind of an exercise in forcible assimilation. Too much encountering pushy strangers in the subway and glimpsing the chaos of a Manhattan work environment. The other at dinner Josh got called out by a guy who thought he was being stared at when Josh was actually just staring off into space. Now honestly, New York. The urban reality of constantly brushing shoulders is constant interactions of urban life are energizing but also wear me down.

The other night I went jogging to the East River...a proud accomplishment for a non-runner. It's absolutely gorgeous...views of the piers, and the Manhattan skyline curving around to the Brooklyn Bridge. Pretty much enough to make me fall in love with you again. And then some guy came up to me and said, "ExcusemeI'mreallysorrybutdoyouknowifthere'saplacearoundhereIcanurinate??". And then a couple of nights ago, I went to a building downtown, the facade of which had games someone had projected for people to play. And yesterday at work, I found out a gigantic moose head fell off the wall spewing a shower of arsenic and formaldehyde around the room. So now a hasmat team has to come clean all the bits of his face off the floor. And last night, I got to mingle (rather awkwardly) with Denzel Washington's daughter and the cast of the Royal Shakespeare Company at a cast party. Yes I did. So I guess there's an awesome eccentricity to city life which makes all the rest worthwhile.

Also, New York, your people have managed to make riding a rush hour subway, which involves standing with your crotch probably in the face of the person who nabbed a seat on the bench in front of you, and impressively un-awkward interaction. Well done on that one.

Sincerely,
A Resident Trying To Melt In The Pot