Coming to New York City, I believed it would come to me. In my imagination (no New York newcomer story is complete without some idiotic naiveté, right?), the Manhattanite aura would sweep me from my 100 square-foot room uptown to a ritzy party on the top-floor of a glass-walled skyscraper. We would sip cocktails—Cosmopolitans, probably—and muse how everyone below looked like ants.
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