The Big Apple Meets DW

So, I got the job that I referred to in the post below. I learned that the other candidate was a 40 something year old man. Feel a little bad about taking a job away from a man who could possibly have a family to feed, but…haha I win.

So I moved to New York City. I really thought this whole blog thing was over but with the changing seasons, my attention span is drawn back into writing and posting. My initial hesitation circulated around my life not containing interesting enough material, but as I stood on the train this morning getting sway humped into a half asleep pot-bellied man by an asian lady holding Starbucks I thought to myself, I am sure I could pull something together for a post each day.

When you move to New York you immediately try to identify yourself more with the “natives” than the “tourists”. Although buying a subway card and catching a speeding cab are daily activities that are still foreign to you, you attempt to the best of your ability to act like it is something you have been doing everyday for as long as you can remember. When you are actually a local and paying God knows how much money to BE a local, the last thing you want is for people to think you are NOT a local.

I am beginning to find that certain stereotypes held by the different NYC neighborhoods are actually quite spot on. For example, right now I live in the upper west section of Harlem. You begin a cab ride on the lower ends of the west side and as you gradually work your way up, lets just say I know when I am getting closer to home. And men do listen to old school R&B and play chess on fold out tables and chairs outside the subway stop. And non-English speaking people do try to force the Metro newspaper in your face each morning―don’t you remember me from yesterday and every other day- I DON’T WANT ONE! (Everyone is nice though…that is actually a stereotype that is not true- most often, if you are nice, they will be nice)

Another example, my roommate K and I went to West Elm to buy a new rug. We were not so pleasantly graced with the presence of a not as attractive version of Will and Grace at the check out counter next to us. In a quite unsuccessful attempt to purchase a curtain rod, the pair asked for pretty much every box of that particular item that they had in the store. Grace proceeded to examine every piece in the box and conclude that every single box of that item in the store was missing a piece. I may be wrong, but one could assume that since every box was “missing” this piece, it could be that Grace is actually mildly retarded and not that the West Elm factory managed to forget the same exact piece when putting together 20 boxes of that particular curtain rod. Anyways, the store and the surrounding streets appeared to be graced with a lot of Wills. Upon glancing at the West Elm business card conveniently located at the check out counter it all began to make sense. “K check this out,” I pointed to the business card that read “West Elm, Chelsea.” K responded, “OHHHHHHH. So that is where we are. Well that makes sense.” Not that anything is wrong with that, but it did make more sense.

The job is going well thus far, however I must add that this is day 20 of the new job and also marks the first day that I decided to not do my hair. From what I can remember, it all starts to go down hill from here. First you quit doing your hair, then you start blogging in the middle of the day (check and check), then you start “forgetting” to put eyeliner on, then you say screw it, wet hair it is…you catch my drift. But we’ll see, I would like this inevitable process to go as slow as possible thus to keep up the facade that I actually do not mind coming to the same place every day from 9-5 and am doing professionally well. More to come…