A San Franciscan Finally Meets The Other Woman: New York City

The Woman in Question

"Omg. Have you met her? She's soooo awesome." 

New York City for me is like that person you don't know but know of because all your friends are friends with her and "she's soooo awesome." You've seen her from a distance or tagged in pictures on Facebook but have never really met her yourself. While we're being honest, you've occasionally even felt jealous of your friends' undying love for her (Have they ever told her about me?!). But you've never really gotten to talk to her, just you and her.

Part of you feels like meeting her is unnecessary, especially when her friends leave such a bad taste in your mouth and when your mutual friends get real with articles like this and this. But there is another part of you that wants to meet her, if for nothing else than to size her up (she is, after all, The Other Woman). 

Last week, New York and I finally met. For real. I didn't really mean for it to be a contest, but it sort of turned into one anyway. I watched her closely, took some notes, and obviously, have some thoughts: 

1. She's the girl you want to take home to your parents: safe and approachable.

Almost immediately, I noticed how safe I felt making my way through the city. In the heart of NYC, even at the oddest of hours or in the dingiest of intersections, I was surrounded by people like myself all shrouded in a palpable spirit of comfort. When I asked a friend what areas I should avoid when walking to work, she looked at me puzzled. "It's not like San Francisco where you walk two blocks and find yourself in the Tenderloin. As long as you're in the heart of the city, you can walk anywhere." 

Just under a year ago, I was violently mugged in broad daylight in front of San Francisco's City Hall. San Francisco, a city around which I have lived for almost my entire life. It was a startling experience that will never quite leave me or its association with SF. In psychology, the attribution error describes how we associate events with a general disposition rather than a specific situation. Though the exact situation -- my holding an iPhone while walking down the street, oblivious to my surroundings, getting attacked -- could happen in any other city, the effect of this bias is that I only attach it to San Francisco because that's where I've experienced it. 

2. She's easy to read and doesn't play games.

New York City is also architected for easy navigation. You just need to know how to count. Which is probably why, after just a few days of walking, I found myself constantly being asked for directions (confound = higher proportion of tourists in the city). Being able to point someone in the right direction instills an immediate sense of belonging, bearing, and power. This sense that, even in a busy, populated city, you have a sense of your existence relative to it all. 

3. She comes in like a train.

But as any native would tell you, and as I quickly learned, getting around safely does not a New Yorker make. It's the speed at which you carry yourself. Halfway through the week, feeling confident enough to take the Subway on my own, I entered the station and swiped my Metro card at the turnstile. As I was doing so, I noticed that turnstile was already half-turned. I pushed it forward to give myself a full spot, then got in and pushed again. Clank. It was as if it hit a wall. The turnstile had locked. What? It was already half turned. That couldn't have been my chance. Oh, but it was. With people to see and places to be, New Yorkers don't have the luxury of an entire turn to enter the Subway. They squeeze in and keep it moving. I ended up swiping again and paying double. That is the cost of a luxurious Subway Turnstile Whole-Turn in NYC.

4. She's unreliable. 

What New York City champions in speed of life, it lacks in speed and prevalence of Wifi. Multiple times, I sat down in coffee shops only to find that free Wifi was nonexistent or molasses. In fact, the heavily advertised Union Square Park Free Wifi seems to have wrestled itself free, escaping from the park to find another more peaceful and unsuspecting location. 

5. And well, she's kind of high-maintenance.

$4 Toast at The Mill, SF

I eat a slice of peanut butter toast every morning. It's been my routine for four years, so arguably my habit predates the current artisanal SF trend. I mostly prepare this treat on my own, but when circumstances prohibit this or I decide to splurge, I can choose one of countless establishments to serve me my homely pleasure in SF. On four separate occasions in NYC, I found myself scouring the city in vain for any coffee shop, bakery, cafe, or restaurant that could serve me a slice of toast -- not a bagel, toast -- with peanut butter. None of them could (and at one particular location, my question was met with piercing judgment). Perhaps there is no place for something so basic and simple as a slice of toast and peanut butter in glamorous New York City. To get NYC's attention, toast should probably get in bed with scones or something. I can see it now: New Yorkers and Tourists Overlook Mouse Infestation in Favor of Scoast.

I know what you're thinking: Classic San Franciscan. She brought it all down to baked (probably gluten-free) dough. And you'd be half right. Yes, New York lost me because it can't fulfill one of my simplest, most basic needs. But I've clearly lost my economic rationality to San Francisco. I'm just a confused hipster who finds nothing wrong with paying $4 for a slice of peanut butter toast. 

"I guess you're kinda cool." 

Sips of SF in NYC

I'm glad I got to know her a little better. As long as my friends are going to keep both of us around, I may as well put some effort into building a real friendship. After my trip, I added her on Facebook, really just to keep tabs. But I'm sure we'll end up leaning on each other at some point. Like when we need a vacation from our mutual friends.