I went to two shows while I was in New York -- Avenue Q and The Book of Mormon. They were both awesome and then I had a great time hanging with friends, eating delicious food (but not Mexican food, because they don't do that right over there), and taking in the sights.
Culture! Art! Sports! Etc.!
And then, while I rode the Long Island Railroad back to my hotel at midnight on my last night, I had to pee. I held it for literally as long as I could, but we were still a half hour from my stop so I decided to seek out the restroom.
While I waited outside that restroom, my bladder nearly exploding, a man threw up ALL OVER EVERYTHING. I am talking toilet, floor, walls. He would have splattered the ceiling if he could have -- and might have, in fact, I didn't bother looking.
He exited that restroom with a full cup of beer in hand (because you can drink on the Long Island Railroad) and then stumbled back to his seat.
The best part of this story -- better than the full cup of beer, in fact -- is that when I opened the door and gasped at the sight of vomit, he turned to me and GLARED at me.
That, friends, is why whenever someone tries to tell you how awesome New York is, you just tell them to shove it.
Because we have art and culture in lots of places that don't smell like pee when you leave the theater, where Mexican food tastes like Mexican food, where people clean up their own sick, and don't scream, "Thanks for running into me--NOT!" when your purse bumps their purse on the way into a McDonalds.
Honestly, New York, I thought your burns would be more impressive.