New York:: Quick Whirlwinds Massacre, Followed By Boredom

New York City has probably gotten the better of us.

It's the end of our third day here, Jack and I. He spent the whole day in bed, laid low by some disease curse that this city has thrown over his head. He was throwing up early this morning, and as far as I can tell, has spent the day indoors in our tiny apartment, recuperating. I have had slightly better luck, being on my feet most of the day and getting to see the hip Museum of Modern Art. However, I will remember this day to be the first and last time I will eat at White Castle.

The first few days where a whirlwind; we challenged the city, stood tall for as long as we could, garnered what little drug-induced sleep we managed to steal, and generally lived hard. Jack's sister has lived here long enough to know what's what, and with her help we hit a good mix of art galleries/hipster restaurants/expensive restaurants during the days. Our nights we spent at strip clubs and bars that, in a rare occurrence, not only sold Natural Ice in 24 ounces but boasted that as its most popular choice among its patrons. In hindsight, this is probably what pushed poor Jack over the brink.

I find myself acclimatizing to the city faster than I thought I would. I remember being very intimidated at first. The people seem unapproachable, the pace too quick, and the help seemed ready to yell at you if you did anything out of line. This has all but faded away, thanks to a few good drunken nights and a couple of rides on the subway. Navigating the public transit always makes you feel like a local. I walk faster, going back to my frantic half-walk half-race that I controlled before I bought my bike in LA. This is a place I could see myself living for a while, and enjoying the hell out of (although I would need more money).