Religion in a city like new york is, more often than not, associated with habitual behaviors. Your morning Starbucks is “religious.” Your run on Chelsea Piers Sunday afternoons is “religious.” Cranberry vodkas are “religious.” As is reading Vogue. The only problem is when you’re faced with a person who actually practices a religion. Then you get the “oh” shifty eyes. Branding yourself “religious” makes you vulnerable, rather, susceptible to feeling or looking a little foolish. What do you need a god for in a city that gives you everything you want if you work hard for it? Whether you make your money the hard way or find a “short-cut,” money can be made here, and sadly, that’s usually the higher power people seek to rule their lives. This city is filled with people who just want the same three infamous things Carrie wanted: the job, the apartment, and the boyfriend/girlfriend. All of which are held to a higher standard around here. It’s not just a job, it’s the job. Not just an apartment, but a loft. Not another small town boy or girl, a big-time business man or woman with model-looks to call your own. People want the cream of the crop in Manhattan, so why then, I wonder, don’t they call on the one person who can give it to them?
No comments:
Post a Comment