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Personal Narrative: New York Pity Essay

In the summer of 2014 three friends and I had decided that we were in much need of a vacation. After a brief discussion and decade we were finally able to make our decision. My friends Sasha, Matt, John and I were going to go to New York City for the Fourth of July. This would be my first time visiting New York City, and without a doubt my first time visiting a city of this magnitude. As I think about my first visit, I think of how it will most likely be my last visit. My New York City experience was not as I hoped.

To me New York City was an overcrowded unfriendly concrete jungle. John, Matt, and we were off in our nine-hour drive to New York City. The whole way in route we generated ideas of things to do and sights to see once we arrived in the city. Theses great ideas were quickly thrown out the window, when car trouble delayed us from getting into the city until very late hours of the day. After all New York is the city that never sleeps right. That slogan could not be more accurate. Bumper to bumper traffic at three in the morning welcomed us into New York City.

I have never seen anything like it; the bright lights, the loud sounds, taxi drivers eeping profusely all of this at three a. m. I was in shock. As we pulled up to our surprisingly dim lit hostel in Chinatown, I immediately questioned how in the work is this place charging us $150 a night. The once bright fluorescent light was now a flashing dim sign with some of the letters missing. Once In the front of the hostel we were informed by an employee informed us that there was no parking, and we would gave to find a spot before checking in.

Finding a parking spot in the middle of the night in China town was by no means an easy task. After what Sasha rented a car, picked up eemed like hours of driving around we were finally able to find a space several blocks away from our hostel. Like an expedition team, we set out with our entire luggage in hand to track back to our hostel. As I finally get to lay down on my cardboard thin bedding in this dirty, dingy hostel l asked myself what have u gotten into. New York City’s first impression on me was not impressive at all. with the horns, sirens, helicopters, and constant commotion.

With the little shuteye that we were able to achieve we set out In the morning to see what this great city had to offer. We set ut to retrieve our car, trying to keep up with the heavy foot traffic that surrounded us that Friday morning in Chinatown. Food venders, street salesman, and what seemed like a million Sleeping turned out to be a difficult task people paraded around us as we marched towards where we parked our car. As our crew turned the corner and started heading towards the car we noticed a bright obnoxious yellow plate in the front tire of our vehicle.

Not even twelve hours in New York City and we already have the dreaded boot. Now we have to spend the day trying to figure out how to get this boot aken off and get our car back in commission. After what seemed like an eternity, the New York parking enforcement showed up to save the day. Upon arrival they were very quick to gift us with a lovely $75 fee to remove their precious boot. Having a car in New York City began to seem like more of a hassle than a luxury, so without second thought we decided to cough up an extra $60 to park the car in an indoor garage for 24 hours so we would not have to worry about it for the rest of the day.

Plus with all the other so called great forms of public ransportation that New York had to offer we thought we would not even miss a beat. Taxis and buses filled the streets like a packed parking lot; constantly stopping and swerving looking for their next fare, so we decided the subway was the best way to travel throughout the city. I thought to myself that traveling like a true New Yorker would be a great experience. This surefire deduction proved to be another reason that New York is a cruel miserable city.

As we descended down the iron stairs of the subway I noticed the pale tile walls was completely covered with large bright spray paint. All walks of life were making their way through the subway system. Businessmen, musicians, street performers, and all other forms of people treaded through the subway like zombies heading towards their trains platform. Trains zip past shaking the ground and shrieking to a stop, a sound that resembled nails on a chalkboard. Hoards of people made their way off the train and were quickly replaced by nders waiting for their opportunity to get.

We waited for any chance of daylight we got, to squeeze into the overcrowded train. Once an opportunity presented itself we bolted onto the rain with no regards for our surroundings or our personal safety. On the train we were surprised to see the car had several open seats so we bunkered down and surveyed the map to get acclimated with where we were traveling. Trying to navigate the map we made our way through the city with clusters of people getting on and off at every stop. It was already getting late so we determined that we were just going to get off at the next stop that a lot of the other exited on as well.

When we exited the train I glanced at the sign Newark, NJ. We had ridden the train all the way into New Jersey. Realizing the idiotic mistake that we just made we scrambled like the rats that made the subway their home to find the correct way to get back to New York. We waited for what seemed like hours for our chariot to arrive. Aboard the train heading across the Hudson River, fireworks begin to burst; bright colors fill the air and the loud bangs penetrating the glass of the subway car. We came to New York in hopes of celebrating but instead we were detained in a long grimy rail car.

On Sunday morning we had no thoughts of trying to explore the city before departing. What seemed like it ould be a great holiday weekend in New York City, turned out to be a series of mishaps and failures. From an atrocious housing situation, sinister parking tickets, and a day wasted onboard the subway New York had got the best out of me. We set out to retrieve our car, luggage in hand practically running to escape from the clutches of this money-sucking city. As we reach the car we are relieved that it is still parked the space, which we left it with no tickets attached.

Situated in the car we begin to navigate through the crowded city streets, destined to get out of he city as fast as we can. Finally after maneuvering through traffic like a racecar driver we made it to the interstate with a goal of getting home as soon as possible. As we exited the city I remember looking back at the skyline in awe of how big it was, perhaps a different time and different circumstance I would be able to enjoy this concrete jungle. Just as the skyline began to vanish a subway car zipped past our car hauling in the other direction towards the city, almost as a reminder for me to never come back to this pitiful city.

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