Excerpt from What If It's Us
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Chapter one Arthur Monday, July 9th. I am not a New Yorker and I want to go home. There are so many unspoken rules when you live here like the way you're never supposed to stop in the middle of the sidewalk or stare dreamily up a tall buildings or pause to read graffiti. No giant folding maps know fanny packs. No eye contact, no humming songs from Dear Evan Hansen in public, and you're definitely not supposed to take selfies at street corners, even if there's a hot dog stand. An old line of yellow taxis in the background, which is eerily, how you always pictured New York. You're allowed to silently appreciate it, but you have to be cool. From what I can tell, that's the whole point of New York being cool. I'm not cool. Take this morning. I made the mistake of glancing up at the sky just for a moment, and now I can't unstick my eyes looking up at this angle. It's like the world's tipping inward, dizzyingly tall buildings and a bright fireball Son, it's beautiful. I'll give New York credit for that. It's beautiful and surreal and absolutely nothing like Georgia. I told my phone to snap a picture. Not an instagram story. No filters, Nothing drawn out. One tiny quick picture. Instantaneous pedestrian rage. Jesus! Come on, move! ******* tourists. Literally. I take a two second photograph, and now I'm obstruction personified. I'm responsible for every subway delay, every road closure, the very phenomenon of wind resistance. ******* kill wrists. I'm not even a tourist. I somewhat live here, at least for the summer. It's not like taking a joyful sightseeing stroll at noon on a Monday. I'm at work. I mean, I'm on a Starbucks run, but it counts.