One of the biggest adjustments that comes with life in NYC is the sensory adjustment. The smells and sensations here add an entirely new dimension to the saying New York has everything.
So I know i’m behind on this blog and it's summer now, but humor me for a minute... Imagine this, a fine winter morning, fresh snow from the night before coating everything in a nice blanket of beautiful white. I’m walking down the street headed to work, feelin’ myself in my cute Kate Middleton approved maroon Hunter boots, bundled up against the cold. All of a sudden a huge chunk of snow falls out of a tree and hits me square on the top of the head and literally causes an explosion of snow particles in about a 5 foot radius. Once I was sure it was just snow and not some form of attack, I noticed everyone on the sidewalk was laughing. Glad to provide Broadway some entertainment worthy of the street name I guess.
Fast forward to summer, one minute you’re strolling down 5th avenue looking at a Valentino window display that costs more than your net worth, when all of a sudden you’re absolutely assaulted with the smell of trash (maybe some dead rats too?) that has been stewing on the summer sidewalk for what smells like days. This proves that the major difference between bad smells in the country is that you expect them based on the circumstance you’re in. For example, when you see a feedlot in the distance, you know that ain’t gonna smell good, or I used to love climbing on horse trailers which you know aren’t going to smell like crisp meadows, but it was entertaining ok. Here, it’s a totally different story. You know how they say preparation is the key to success? No chance of preparing your nostrils for the abuse they’re about to take, except for when you see a completely empty subway car… that’s not a lucky break, trust me, that’s a warning. We used to have this saying, "It smells like money," for when we would pass a feedlot or when the wind would blow the feedlot scent 20 miles to your house. I guess I can adapt that phrase for any bad smell here and say "it smells like money" about 20 times a commute, fitting.
Now we play my favorite walking game, mystery drippings: what the heck just fell in my eye? As if navigating people, dogs, unnecessarily aggressive taxis, and kids on scooters wasn’t enough, you also have to endure drips of some kind of fluid coming from all kinds of directions. For me, these usually land square in my eye, beautiful, I know. I like to hope it’s one single raindrop Jesus decided to bestow upon only me right that second and right in the middle of my eye, but I know that the absolute best I can hope for is water from an A/C unit that’s at least 20 years old. Don’t make me think about the worst…
I can’t forget every New Yorker’s most frequent question, why is this sticky? That one I’ll let you experience for yourself, it only takes a solid 5 minutes in our city to have a sensation like that. I’m no stranger to getting dirty, I loved it. I used to be barefoot 90% of the time, playing outside, with all kinds of animals, digging up dirt, fishing, you name it. That's the kind of dirty I like, you’re the one who did it to yourself and it was “organic” if you will. This kind, with mystery substances caused by other people and years of buildup without even a water splash cleaning has me carrying around at least two hand sanitizers (bath and bodyworks scents because I’m ~fancy~) like the cityslicker I’m becoming.
I'll leave you with this, I promise that's me and not an Irish paperboy.