What??!! Did I really just say that? The idea of living in the suburbs is enough to make me shudder, to cause a chill to run down my spine. As summer approaches, though, I form a sort of gratitude for those cookie cutter neighborhoods with (gasp!) real grass. You’d think I’d be able to enjoy the warm weather spring has finally bestowed upon us in the city; however, my mind can’t help but race ahead to the promise of what is to come. June – August in the city = hell.
While people in the suburbs are frolicking around in tank tops and shorts, enjoying weekends in their pools and air conditioned nights, the city is quickly becoming a sweaty, smelly, angry mass. The subway temp averages about 120 degrees, while my office requires a jacket at a cool 55 degrees. This creates a daily morning struggle in front of my closet that usually ends in a decision of so many layers I have to practically pack an overnight bag. Meanwhile, people are desperate to find someone who knows someone whose cousin has an illusive membership to a rooftop pool. (Think Sex and the City’s Samantha taking over a woman’s identity just so the girls can enjoy the woman’s access to a pool.) At night and on the weekends I sprawl out in my skivvies (thank god I live alone), desperately hoping for a cross-breeze through my windows (which will never happen seeing as they face an alley), too cheap to turn on the air conditioner because ConEdison charges people in the city 30% more than everywhere else.
I admittedly am one of the lucky ones who has plenty of options for escapes: my best friend lives in the Hamptons, my boyfriend in
Posted by cher on Monday, April 21st, 2008 at 2:21 pm.