WTF?

If I could sum up my experiences living in New York City for seven years, it would be this: WTF? Seriously, WTF? My city life is full of WTF? moments. Whether it’s the human shield I transform into as I machete my way through the throngs of people in Union Square; the obnoxious hipster beside me at a bar trying to hit on the pretty girl (it takes more than tortoise shell Wayfarers, my friend); or the cute guy I’m walking parallel to on the street (not always by accident), I am constantly inundated with experiences that force me to step back and assess the mechanics of the city, always leading to the same head-scratching reaction: WTF? These WTF? moments epitomize the effortless ability the city has to entertain 8 million (even more, if we’re talking B&T crowd) diverse creatures all jam packed on a small island for our communal experiential pleasure (or nightmare—in the case of the oft urine-scented descent into the subway corridors).

And so it seems strange that in a New York minute, people willingly sacrifice their space, sanity, idealism, and paychecks to call home a place that’s probably sized no bigger than their childhood bedroom. It’s a wonder that a person gives up the traditional notion of adulthood; to relocate to NYC to move on up in the world—and move on up to their 6-story walk-up, in tow with four quivering D’Agostino bags held tightly by an increasingly-bluing grip. I, too, pronounce my guilt. I know what it’s like to feel defeated when you try three Friday nights in a row and The Little Owl still manages to be too crowded. WTF? do I always do this to myself? Or when you’re incessantly (and idiotically) walking back and forth on the same block trying to find that new speakeasy bar, looking far less cool, and far more fool. WTF? am I doing this for when there are plenty of equally enjoyable places to spend a Saturday night?

Yet, my relentless exploration of the New York culinary, cinematic, cultural, and nightlife worlds is the stuff that keeps me pulsating. It’s the feeling of endless possibilities; of discovering new streets; of hearing seven languages in a two block radius; of voluntary sleepless nights; of seeing the newest Woody Allen film in the same city that inspired his genius; of finally seeing that one celebrity you actually care about; of being able to work at the Tribeca Film Festival; and of looking, each and every time, in awe and wonderment at your city’s skyline as if you’re looking at it for the first time. These are testaments to my enthusiasm for the beats and rhythms that keep New York City alive. These experiences have allowed me to amass an ever-growing arsenal of perspective into a city that I am thrilled to write about.

So while these WTF? moments will never fail to bombard me as I continue to take on the mean streets of NYC, I take pride in these WTF? experiences as contributing factors to my asking the world: Why TF not?

Be happy and Carpe Diem!