A young professional’s take on the trials and tribulations of everyday life in New York City.
By Nina Pajak
Woof. It’s been a hot one. Did anyone lose power? I hope you were some of the everyone who decided to skip town this weekend. Apparently we’re the only dopes who stuck around. It felt like a scene out of “28 Days Later” around here. On the bright side, we got seated very quickly at dinner on Saturday night. On the downside, we were here. And it was gross.
Luckily, life in New York has become such that I can nearly get everything I would want or need without ever putting on pants. And better than that, I can do it without any interaction with other carbon-based beings. And better than that, I’m not even considered an anti-social shut-in for availing myself of these modern urban conveniences. In fact, I’m pretty normal. Well, at least in this respect.
If I want to order in food, I turn to Seamless Web, which I do altogether too often. If I want to get brave and buy groceries to actually cook, I go straight to Fresh Direct, which simultaneously takes care of most of my liquor store, drugstore and pet store needs. If for some strange reason we decide we’d like to rejoin the human race for a few hours and visit a restaurant, I don’t have to spend any time calling places and talking (ick) on the (ugh) phone. Do you have a table? No? Thanks. Do you have a table? Do you or you or you have a table? Feh! There are at least five websites I know of where I can book a reservation without a single verbal exchange (except the one between me and my husband in which we standoff in a battle of wills over who “doesn’t care” more about what kind of food we eat). I suppose there are needs beyond those related to eating, though I’m less familiar with them. But it doesn’t matter. Whatever I can’t access through the aforementioned channels, I can pretty much buy anything else from Amazon anyway. Like a new AC unit when this one inevitably maxes out, or a new flat screen T.V. for the bathroom to thoroughly support my indoor lifestyle. Or books, I think? Maybe.
I’m slightly concerned that with every click, I’m growing closer and closer to actually becoming that anti-social shut-in that these conveniences don’t make me. I could go to the supermarket, but I can’t bear the thought of the crowds and the mean old elderly people with their sharp elbows and their merciless line-cutting. And I could go out to dinner, but it’s so comfy in here and what if the waitress is rude or there’s a wait or they get my order wrong and I’m forced into a confrontation? And it could be hot and would what I wear and it’s so hard to get a cab and bleeeeech. Eh, I don’t think there’s anything to really worry about. Who needs people anyway? We’ve got the world at our fingertips here in New York, and I’m pretty sure my fingertips are all I need.
And a sandwich. Everything is better with a sandwich.
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