““Within the history of capitalism, Manhattan is the island reserved for the damned because they have hoped excessively.””
I arrived in lower Manhattan with an excessive amount of hope. It was 10:30. I had nothing in my stomach and Newark airport still on my skin. I joined Edmund and Kyle at Macao, a late night Asian fusion joint, and took a glass of champagne with a promise of food to follow.
Three things hit me immediately: everybody here is beautiful, food is never more than a block away, and here there is no need to tiptoe. A subconscious feeling of forced reservedness was suddenly absent, like an annoying fan you only notice when it finally turns off. In a city with this much going on, this many extremes, you just don't matter that much. It feels like a license to be myself.
Here, COVID is a footnote rather than a headline. We dined outside, but inside the bar was packed shoulder to shoulder without a mask in sight. They asked for proof of vaccination and I downloaded a contact tracing app: the COVID test positive rate here is 3% and decreasing. Meanwhile in SF, where all socialization feels governed by fear and stoic responsibility, infection rates are 2.3%. I can't tell what that 0.7% means but it feels way, way better in NYC right now.
The next morning, though calmer, was an acceleration of differences. I saw more faces, from more countries, in one hour than I normally do in a month. Everyone is just doing their thing, and the variety and density of things happening is on par with a novel. There is no expectation to participate. There is no fanfare. But if you look and listen there is an impossible degree of human detail to absorb. That constant hum of humanity continues on every block, all of the time, whether or not you keep up. But it feels I could be part of one of those moments at any time, without even trying.
They say it's the city that never loves you back. And even in just these first 24 hours, I can see the promise that might always be just out of reach. But surrounded by this much life, it seems like a pretty good trade. Even if the city doesn't love you back, it's easy to love.
