New York: Culture Shock ep. 1
Feb 9th 2016
NEW YORK
Well, Brooklyn to be specific. Crown Heights.
The room is small, but the bed is comfy and the roommates are sweet. There is a park nearby, a big park. It’s chilly and gray in the morning, but it’s nice. There’s a lake. It’s not Villa Pamphilj, but nothing is. Nothing will be.
Today in the elevator on the way up to the 12th floor I was standing next to another arriving workerbee. He was going to the 11th. I asked, “So, what’s on the 11th floor?”
“Web MD.”
“Oh, cool.”
And then he asked, “What’s on the 12th?”
I told him PBS, then asked him how long he’d worked in the building.
“Five years.” FIVE YEARS?! And you don’t even know who works on the floor above you? You’ve never bothered to ask? Do you have any interest in life? Life that doesn’t necessarily put more money in your bank account, but soothes your mind with common experience? Comfort, even?
These people, these business-minded-too-important-for-their-own-good-living-in-a-world-better-than-anyone-elses that don’t take the time to meet their neighbors… It baffles me! I knew every barista and baker in San Lorenzo after working there for 6 months. I just don’t get it. When did human interaction lose value? Why does everyone stick those damn earbuds in their heads and refuse to speak to each other on the subway? They just scowl, racing to some job that fills their pockets but not their hearts.
I miss Rome. I miss random, joyful, frustrating, useless, annoying, heartwarming conversation. I miss real humans. Robot workers stuck on the same moving walkway to and from the office already taste stale to me. Flavorless. Who cares how much honey you’ve got stored in the hive if you never leave? If you never share your stock with friends? Sweet is always sweeter when enjoyed in company.