Honestly, this is what it's all about. And I'm going to node it, Drunk in Manhattan, because this is the true reason why you'd pay an extra $1000 to live in Manhattan, as opposed to say, Brooklyn. Because Manhattan is an island designed for drunks.
They're everywhere. For instance, I live in Hell's Kitchen. Everyday I pass the Port Authority. At ninth avenue today, e.g., I saw a guy passed out, high or, more likely drunk on West 40th Street, actually on the fucking street, with a puddle of piss streaming from his groinal-crotchlike area.
And do you know why I didn't stoop to help this fellow? Why I wasn't overtaken by some Middle American sort of average Joe beneficence?
Goddammit because I live here.
And furthermore, this is the drunk's paradise. Public Transit is the perfect excuse for getting ass-drunk anywhere, at anytime. No worries, no cares for getting home. All the subways are color-coded. Just follow the blue circles, for instance.
And, and, furthermore there are plenty of reasons to imbibe copious liquid volumes of cheap beer. And if you would allow me the time to enumerate: high rent, no job, shitty apartment, oppressive architecture, temp work, lonliness, et cetera...
But it's all good. In fact, there's no place I'd rather be.
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