I can’t quite assign reason to my lust-love for New York City. Every time I go, it uses, abuses, and overfeeds me. And the last two times, I’ve spent a bus ride home feeling like I need to buy DC a string of pearls. But so help me, I just can’t stop thinking about her.
Top Three Picks This Trip:
3. Pretending like I didn’t want to pretend to be engaged to Grant at Tiffany’s. 2. Central parking. 1. And my favorite: running for doughnuts. Probably because it happened twice. We sprint-ran to the infamous “Doughnut Plant,” which turned out sub- to well-below par (according to my friends anyway, little do they know I stopped even tasting sugar somewhere around 2 pm). Turns out it didn’t close for another hour and despite our best flirting*, they wouldn't give us any more of their crappy doughnuts for free. I would still say it was worth the journey though. During one particularly moving stretch of our jaunt, a large Latino man yelled out his affinity for running white girls at us, then cheered, "run white girls, run!" Touched.
*"Flirting" read: Rebekah speaking in terms of economics and ROI, and me pressing my cheek onto his window front, making “smush face” until the sweaty worker waved us both away like fleas.
Related notes: Happy birthday Kat. Thanks for making this happen Melissa. Rebekah: you get me.