There’s very few days of the week when I DON’T miss the fuck out of New York City, but if there was ever a time to leave, it seems like this June was it.
It all started with the endless, endless rain that swept the city from Floral Park to Coney Island and the George Washington Bridge, raining out Mets games, hipster events and the Coney Island Mermaid Parade. Turns out, June rain not only ruins perfectly nice beach days—it also drives people just an eensy, weensy bit insane. The murder rate is up up up, par for the course in New York’s crazy making, swamp-ass-jungle-muggy nastiness. Did you read about that drug fueled shoot-out at a Flatbush preschool? Now you did. But if the killers don’t get you, the swine flu will. Yeah, it’s still going strong in NYC. You know what totally boosts flu rates? Yeah, getting soaked in the rain and then sitting inside all day with recycled air. Awesome. But not as awesome as the piece of Neverland Ranch that’s turned up at Coney Island. Irritated taxistas weigh in about a plan to make their job less pleasant (but a little more affordable). They’re building a fucking hipster mall in fucking Bushwick, the price of a subway ticket has jumped into the realm of astronomical—oh, and the best part? The subway is making you deaf. Fuck.