i'm not a cheater. i don't think it's in me. i would've been a good catholic; even flirtation often leaves me with guilty feelings.
i would only EVER cheat on my spouse with new york city.
i've been hundreds of times.
i've stayed up all night, slept with nefarious gentlemen in the west village, fought with strangers, and walked its perimeter the way people hike mountains in search of a transcendental vista. mine stands homeless behind pillars of corporate excess ducking behind vigilante taxis ever late to a boarding flight at la guardia.
in the wake of boston and the construction of our dream home in austin, i still daydream about new york like an adolescent with his dad's playboy.
some dream of eventual summer houses on the cape, or weekend getaways on lush golf courses. i want to retire to the sound of sirens and screams and late-night revelry and rude executives and $7 muffins and designer lollipops and racial mosaics and the universal glory that is new york.
2 comments:
i knew i was in love when a dude with a fake british accent bought my friend and i 4:30AM breakfast at a packed diner.
New York City has been calling my name recently as well. Its sweet seduction never fails to satisfy. AS cliche as it is to say, I <3 NY.
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