i get it all the time.from people on the street, "gasp, how could you ever want to leave new york city?" (raises head (and nose) in conceit.)
from friends at home, "you're too young not to be out and about in the big apple!" (shakes head in disgust.)
from interns at the office, "don't you have to a family to live in the suburbs?" (tilts head in confusion.)
even jay-z is all like, "the concrete jungle where dreams are made of. the streets will make you feel brand new. big lights will inspire you. blah, blah, blah."
well folks, you heard it hear first -like all new york sports teams the city itself is overrated.
when jason and i met we were both living in a luxury building in downtown manhattan. while it was all sorts of fancy and schmancy we were ready for some good ol' new york "quaintness".
Quaintness we thought we found when we rented a renovated 4th floor walk up on a brownstone-lined street on new york's upper west side. with central park just down the block, boutiques at every turn, and four starbucks within walking distance i thought for sure we had hit the realestate jackpot.
but we couldn't have been more wrong. here is one (of three) short stories which, when smooshed together into a tiny one-bedroom apartment, explains it all...
you see, winter had melted away and the city was (finally) coming out of hibernation.
jason had headed to the beach with some friends, while i was spending the weekend in the city dogsitting for one cute, four-pound excuse of a dog named toro.
after taking advantage of restaurant week (one point new york) with old family friends, i tucked myself and the tiny little pup into bed. thats when i felt the tickle.
"toro," i said, " that tickles," as i held him just a bit tighter. but then i felt it again.
quicker than jay-z could lay down a beat i threw the off those covers, jumped up on to the bed, and let out a scream; there it was - our very first cockroach.
it was (only) at this very moment i was grateful to have such a tiny lil' room. without getting off the bed i reached into jason's closet, pulled out the biggest, thickest, shoe i could i find, and repeatedly smacked it against the ground while simultaneously dialing jason on my phone.
that conversation went a bit like this...
"WHERE ARE YOU," i belted.
"Just pulling in to the beach house (in a car packed with five guys)he calmly responded.
"YOU HAVE TO COME HOME RIGHT NOW! I DON'T CARE THAT YOUR FOUR HOURS AWAY," i rationally retorted,"WE HAVE COCKROACHES."
"did you kill it," he replied.
"YES! OF COURSE"
"well, then i'll call you later and i'll see you on sunday. you're fine and i love you." click.
sure i was fine. but what about toro? well, that poor sucker went shuffling into the air and i'm pretty sure pulled off a few 360's before landing in the opposite side of the room, when i "lightly and calmy tossed" the blanket off the bed. it took him a whole three hours to forgive me while he sulked (voluntarily) in his cage.
new york city makes dogs cry. why don't they rap about that?
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