I may be biased toward my own misery, but I always think it’s ridiculous when people in other cities complain about the weather. Vermont can get 12 inches of snow, and I’m going to think that the 2 inches in NYC is 100 times worse. Texas can be 115 degrees, and I’m still going to think NYC at 85 is more unbearable.
Yesterday was the first really hot day we’ve had here, with a disgusting humidity to boot. Kamran was working late, so I asked myself what I truly, truly wanted for dinner without him there to judge me. I chose pizza, of course, and stopped at the Two Boots in Grand Central, because they’re the only ones in the entire city making pizza with any flavor, as far as I’m concerned. As I waited in line for my two slices of Sicilian, all four people in front of me asked the cashier for napkins, and he apologized to each one and explained that they unexpectedly ran out. When I got to him to pay, I of course said, “I have two slices of Sicilian. And can I have that with a lot of napkins, please?” He made a gun with his fingers and said, “Good one.”
I stood back and waited for my slices to come out of the oven, and when the other counter person handed them to me, they were on two plates. I didn’t think anything of it at first, but after I’d taken a few steps, I realized that it was going to be kind of awkward carrying them allllll the way back to Kamran’s like that. It would’ve been so easy to turn around and ask for a takeout box, but the place was so busy, and I didn’t want to be a bother, and every step carried me closer to the sidewalk. (Kamran says this makes me very pathetic.)
So I just held my pizza in front of me, out in the open air for all of the dust and cab exhaust to settle on. People kept looking at it jealously as I passed, and a couple of deliverymen even asked if I’d share. “It’s too good to give up!”, I said. I’d unfortunately started out on the far end of Grand Central, so three avenue blocks later, I was finally at Kamran’s apartment on the waterfront, and I was hot.
I thought about how if I talked to Tracey for a third time that day, I’d complain to her about the heat, but then I realized that it’s probably been hot in Ohio for two days now with the way the weather travels so slowly to NYC. But then I realized that she’d say, “But the weather always feel worse in New York because you have to walk around in it instead of driving through it in your air-conditioned car.”
And that’s what best friends are for.
7 Comments
That’s exactly what I would have said!
But you never got to the part where you got to enjoy your pizza. Did you make it home with it?
I did, without a stolen slice nor a single spill. I did have grease all over my fingers, but that’s of course why I like the stuff.
Two Boots reminds me of Adriatico’s, though, so you’d hate it. And that’s why you’re a terrible best friend.
I felt exactly the same way when I lived in New Orleans. I would talk to my friends on the phone and they would complain about the heat in, say, Birmingham, and I would completely lose my shit: “IT IS NOT HOT THERE. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HOT IS. I AM ON THE SURFACE OF THE FUCKING SUN HERE, PEOPLE.”
That said, I went to New York in July, and even though it was a very mild summer, I thought I would die waiting for the subway. It was the most miserable, oppressive environment EVER. So even someone in the deep south has sympathy for you.
When I moved here, it was July, and I was going on all of these job interviews, and I could just feel my face melting off as I waited for the subway every day. It’s no wonder it took me three months to find work.
The 4/5/6 platforms at Grand Central are air-conditioned, and at first I thought that was so wasteful and typically American, but now that I wait there every morning when I go to work from Kamran’s, I think it’s the best idea ever.
I think New Orleans and NYC should have a summer showdown.
Dude, public transportation in the heat and humidity is the ultimate suck. Sweaty legs rubbing up against each other? I can hardly think of something worse. Except a dude taking a shit in your train car, but really, how often does that happen? It’s fucking hot as balls all summer long so it trumps the shit-taking-dude.
I think that the weather in Ohio has been great this summer. I mean, right now it is July 23rd, and it is 66 degrees outside, with a high in the mid-70s. Perfect.
But I’m pregnant, and every stranger that sees me gives me pity for having to be pregnant in the summer…so I just agree with them that it’s too darn hot and I can’t handle it…because it’s nice to be pitied by complete strangers, I guess.
oh, by the way. This post made me bribe John to visit Grand Central Station and get pizza there. I had the pepperoni and he had “the dude”. So yummy! Thank you! :)