I woke up at 7:08 Rocky Mountain Time in Boulder, CO. I got on the bus to DIA and drank some God-awful coffee on the way. Had to pay Delta $15 for my one checked bag which made the flight more expensive than United (which would have given me miles and a free lunch).
The flight was cool, though. There were the video screens with the maps so I could tell where i was. I'm such a geek about always knowing where I am while I'm on an airplane. When we crossed the Mississippi River, a bunch of half-frozen tendrils stringing through a gigantic flood plane, I almost cheered aloud, but everyone else just kept watching CNN or sleeping in those geeky neck pillows. Lake Michigan made people take a second look, though. I flew over Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Michigan, Ontario, New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and up and down Long Island all in four hours.
New York City is NO FUCKING JOKE, is about all I have to say so far. I felt this sense of fear and sadness right when I got here. Alea has to work until 1. Sandy couldn't hang out tonight. And I don't really know anyone else.
I have practically no money. Like seriously. I don't have enough to pay rent even. And I have to pay to apply to the New School. And I have to pay the dude who's driving my bike to me. And I have to eat. Then I have to somehow go to Paris and stay alive for three weeks there. I'm fucked, basically. Everything is conspiring against me getting bailed out of this. I couldn't sell a bike. I didn't get any graduation money. My dad only gave me $100 (for which I'm very grateful). I'm not a religious man, but I think that if there is some sore of deity, he/she/it is telling me not to pull this kind of relying-on-other-people's-sympathy bullshit again. And I'm listening.
So I have to get a job immediately.
Anyway, so I got here, felt really scared and bummed out. I know it sounds racist, but I've never been anywhere where I'm the only white dude, or at least in the extreme minority. I was really uncomfortable in Bushwick, so I immediately hopped on a bus with my laptop and went to Williamsburg, assuming from all I'd heard of it on the internet that there would be a million white people like me.
It turns out that the internet is right - partially. There are a SHITLOAD of white people in Williamsburg. Very white people. But they're different from me insofar as that they seem to be doing just fine for money. That and they all wear black. And they're all sort of fancy rather than being very Bohemian. It was fucking weird. I have a lot to say about my fashion/demographic observations of New York so far, but I'll save that for later. All I know is that for the supposed "hipster capital of the world," Williamsburg was filled with some pretty boring looking bros.
Hipsters, though, unquestionably. The most surreal experiance was next when I got on the subway at Bedford and 7th to discover that it was a subway station populated ENTIRELY by hipsters. Seriously. 100 fucking percent! Well, there was a down-on-his-luck guy playing the digereedoo for money, but other than that there wasn't anyone I could describe as "square." Also, the median age appeared to be 21. It just sort of made me feel insecure and bitter (because no one seemed to be making eyes at me).
Then I rode the sibway to the East Village and this is my first experience in Manhattan. It's really hopping. It's almost midnight and it's fucking happening as hell. And I'll bet that there are other places that are busier at night than here. Also, everything is still open. Also, the availability of cigarettes, chips, advil, and magazines in incredible. How could they sell this much. Like a corner store every 20 feet. I gotta go, I'm getting kicked out of this restaurant.
No comments:
Post a Comment