Day nineteen: If you need someone to go 19 days without Internet in his room, I’m your guy

It’s over.

I’m posting this from my new room. It has Internet. A faster connection than was in the lobby of the Y. This Internet is NYPL-good. It also has a bigger bed, a bigger TV, and a nicer bathroom. Sorry 63rd street Y, you just got shown up.

Maybe I’m just giddy over having Internet again, but I really love this neighborhood too. I got dinner at an affordable AND delicious diner a block from my building. The greek man who served me appeared at first to be gruff and cold, but he was quite welcoming and nice. I’m going to go there every day, I can feel it.

It almost doesn’t feel like I’m still in Manhattan. I’m thirty blocks up from where I used to be, which was twenty blocks up from where I work, so everything seems far away, even if it’s really not. And I also feel like I’m actually living here, as opposed to just staying here, if that makes sense, but that probably has more to do with me knowing I’m going to be here for two months than anything else. But it’s definitely more residential here, than say, C.C. For the three hours in between moving out of the Y and moving in here, I sat in Riverside Park and read a short story by David Foster Wallace. How pretentious is that? Someone shoot me.

Should I be proud of myself, though, for getting through? I made it the nineteen days, and I’m not going to jinx it, but it seems to have been worth it. Not only do I appreciate the Internet a lot more (I love it so much, I’ll never take it for granted again, I swear) but I also feel like I proved something. That whole Walden thing? Yea, I showed my own sort of self-reliance and ingenuity for just-under-three weeks, and it was pretty impressive if I do say so myself.

I thank any of you who read just one of the other posts. I understand that they’re all really self-serving drivel, with barely any substance or point or meaning. But they got me through the first nineteen in Manhattan, and that’s all they had to do. Starting tomorrow, these posts will (hopefully) be more focused and have a point.

And now, to close:

Favorite thing I saw today in the city: The open taxi coming around the corner of Central Park West and 63rd St. as soon as I walked out of the Y. I had never hailed a cab before, and that was much easier than I anticipated.

Favorite thing I heard today in the city: The woman with a few long hairs coming out of her gooseneck who sat in the booth at the window in my new favorite diner saying, “you know, the people who can’t handle the cold, it’s easy for them, they can just put clothes on, but us people who can’t take the heat, no one wants to see us naked.” Because she’s right, I did not want to see her naked.

Random picture of the day: Because I have Internet in my room again. Because I have Internet in my room again.

Image

So that’s it. I survived the nineteen days on 63rd street. Excuse me while I stream The Menzingers on Spotify, watch a frog sitting like a human for 40 seconds on Youtube, and load an episode of The League on Netflix. Suck it, Thoreau. 

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