NYC
A Letter I Wrote To My Best Friend While Stuck Under A River Yesterday
Dispatches from New York
Another entry in the series in which a lifelong Miamian tries to deal with a place where there are no palm trees. Read more here. Or don’t, it’s cool.
Dear Pants:
I trudged down the street this morning (as the sidewalks were NOT navigable) with not enough coffee in me and sweating like a pig only to realize at subway station that it’s hard to tell whether my wallet’s on me or not when I’m wearing thermals. Spoiler: it was not. I WAS on time to work but also seemingly the only person going to work the entire length of the 3/4 a mile walk all 3 times I took it. Everyone else was digging themselves out or else buying supplies. I think I saw an old man buying himself booze and going home although I think it was probably just milk or something. I’d like to think it was Jack and he’s just going to drink himself back to bed like I wish I were doing.