“What was the last thing that made you go, wow?” asked Garrison Keillor, the smooth-voiced host of A Prairie Home Companion, to a group of 1,400 at The Moth at Town Hall last week during more

Everything we had heard was true. Young mothers carried yoga mats and young fathers walked with newborns in slings. Restaurants advertised locally sourced food and bikes were everywhere. But no one seemed all that nice. Our new apartment was above a coffee shop and the owner wouldn't let us double park to unload. From behind our building's front door, neighbors watched dispassionately as we, boxes toppling, fumbled for keys. They made way reluctantly and then stood watching. My girlfriend dropped our couch and a man said, "I bet that's heavy." more

I COUNT THE HEARTS in the tiled floor as I walk post-op patients until they pass gas; 20 feet between each. I clean the urine, shit, vomit and crusted blood that they cant wipe up themselves. Patients depend on my young stamina to get them back in shape so they can return home and not come back to the hospital. more

I could hear the sound of footsteps and voices before I could clearly see anyone. It was well past midnight and I was cutting through Prospect Park on my way home. As a white, 32-year-old gay Canadian, America was still offering me surprises and lessons at every turn. more

SO THERE I was, arms and legs spreadeagled, hunched over the hood of Tinas Honda Accord on a busy street in the Bronx, after dark. I hope youre embarrassed, I hope you are thoroughly fucking embarrassed! screamed the officer. They had already cuffed and carried Brian off to the paddy wagon some 100 feet away. more

MY EARLY DAYS in New York roughly three months agoI encountered a number of obstacles, to the point that I was living a comedy of errors.When I wasnt reaching my anger threshold three-quarters into a run, I was struggling to find a job, training at restaurants for free and not getting hired. more

WHEN I ARRIVED at college freshman year, I sold myself as a New Yorker. I say sold because Im not really a New Yorker, or at least I wasnt at the time. I grew up in the suburbs, about 35 minutes from Grand Central. But since Id spent more time in Manhattan than the other freshmen in my dorm, I believed I was more experienced and more New York. more

At some point in my mid-thirties, for a reasons completely unknown to me, I became deathly afraid of speaking in front of groups. I was afflicted with what I refer to as Adult Sudden Shyness (ASS), and have since mastered the art of avoiding public speaking situations. more

As a broke acting student, I was thrilled to land a six-week paid internship at American Theater Wing. Each year the group holds a benefit to honor individuals who have made significant contributions to the theater, a black tie affair held at Cipriani with cocktails, dinner and a show featuring Broadway's brightest. The best part? The interns were invited. more

As Alison and I were discussing rent outside her three-bedroom, West 88th Street brownstone, an attractive brunette with a clipboard asked if we would be interested in makeovers. I dismissed her with the cynicism of a jaded New Yorker, though I was a 22-year-old who had only ever lived in a small New Jersey suburb and on an insulated college campus. Besides, I'd come to the city that afternoon for my first post-graduate apartment, not a conversation with a salesperson. Alison, a Manhattanite of two years, surprised me. "Sure," she agreed. more