NYC & Me

Three days after moving to Brooklyn in January of 1998 I found myself at a temp agency sitting in front of the cluttered desk of a woman straight out of central casting - an eruption of gray hair (I thought she looked like she was from 1950, looking back now she was probably like 42), comically oversized black frames for glasses while seemingly smoking an entire carton at once - slamming down the phone and simultaneously yelling that the new girl at _______ needed to be replaced because her foot was cut off by a Subway train that morning and that the coffee was fucking terrible and all I could think of was that this was the most exciting place to be in the world and how incredible it was that I was in the middle of it all.