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  • As my plane descended over Manhattan giving me a view of the steel labyrinth, I remember thinking to myself, "Damn...". It's the same thought I have every time I look at the city from a distance - and to be clear, it's an damn of awe, inspiration, or any other overwhelming feeling of excitement and curiosity.

    The plane lands, I get my bag, and I begin my LaGuardia exit in search of cab. I make eye contact with a guy already in the baggage area (warning sign for pricey), and walk with him out to his car where there is a black Chevy Tahoe (no I don't get abducted). Being a nice Texan and already giving the "why the F not" committed signal to the driver, I accept the ride. Sure enough, I get charged $20 more than I would have if I had just hopped in a Yellow Cab. I learn that the driver is from Argentina and acutally turned out to be pretty cool and fairly intelligent. He also kept describing his daughter to me as being amazingly attractive (which was a bit strange) but made the ride a lot more interesting as I kept envisioning a Argentinean goddess.

    I arrive at my friends place where a futon covered with a lime green sheet and a blue comforter in a back room await me. My home for the next month.

    That night I went out with my friend and her boyfriend to a great place in the East Village. Good food, good atmosphere, was happy to be living in NYC. After a few bottles of wine, our moods were pretty elevated and we decide to go and grab some ice cream. We walk a few blocks, and finally arrive at the corner of the where the ice cream shop is located.

    Suddenly, tires squeal and there is a loud crunch of metal. A guy appears doing an unintentional Ninja roll out from under the cab, untouched. Bent and wrapped around the cab's tire...the Ninja's bicycle. Now to me at that point in time, I assumed this was normal. Oh, cab drivers are crazy, and most bikers have Ninja skills in NYC (yeah, bikers are practically Ninjas). I look at my two comrades to find their faces in a state of horror and disdain...Okay, not so normal. Long story short, the driver erupts, opens the cab drivers door, pulls him out, and makes him sit (yes sit) in the middle of the street until the authorities arrive to settle the situation. Remembering that we are still a few bottles deep in wine and in an overall cheery mood (despite the Ninja v. cab scene) we get our ice cream.

    The night ends when the three of us get back to the apartment and watch Newsies. We then find ourselves waking up at sporadic times in the night to finally drag ourselves to our respective rooms.


    The next few weeks would get even more interesting. My job begins, I meet lots of new people, and I find a new apartment in the Lower East Side where eight people live and is comprised of young individuals my age from all over the world.
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