My mother and sister asked me about six months ago if I wanted to join them in NYC this weekend to go shopping. I politely declined. Then a few people at work organized a trip in to the city today. I firmly declined. Then I got an invitation in the mail to spend the day in Times Square. I finally had to come out with the truth (and my apologies to my New York friends like Nick C. of Long Island, if this offends): I hate going to New York City.
My Myers-Briggs personality profile is ISTJ. A quick Google search (go ahead, I'll wait)...will tell you that ISTJs are introverted, prefer quiet, peaceful living, and have a strong belief in following the rules. Why on Earth would anyone put someone like that in a city with a thousand people per sidewalk square, where these mass hordes don't have a moment's hesitation before crossing the street when the giant red hand is clearly indicating DON'T WALK? The very nature of the city upsets my sensibilities. Plus, I had the unfortunate experience of going one time on garbage day, which hits my list as one of the single most unpleasant experiences of my life.
To be fair, I don't hate everything about New York City. I'm a big fan of their sidewalk sales, and have been known to come home with a few new purses that I couldn't otherwise afford. But my brother-in-law, who works in a law enforcement capacity, has implied that some of the items for sale on the streets of the city are not exactly legal. Another thing about ISTJs? We carry a lot of guilt. In our new Coach bags.
Also, I'm a big Yankees fan. We have a Yankees shower curtain and Yankees blankets draped throughout the house. I have Yankees sneakers and a framed poster of Derek Jeter (sigh!) My favorite thing to do in New York is take the train to that utopia of all that is right in baseball, Yankee Stadium, and have my picture taken next to the giant Mickey Mouse dressed in Yankees gear. If there were a way to get there without dealing with the crowds on the subway and outside the stadium, life would be perfect. And again, I'm a big fan of those guys on the sidewalk, selling the jerseys and pennants for a third of the price of what you'd pay inside. But I'll admit, I often have to take a Valium before making the pilgrimage to Yankee Stadium. On the plus side, I rarely get upset on those rare occasions when my team loses, so I'm not going to knock the Valium thing.
Also, the Hershey store in Times Square is nice. But I'm not going to spend my day elbowing my way through rude crowds and stepping over spit and urine on the sidewalks to get a giant Reese's peanut butter bar.
Me, I prefer Boston. Less people, more Kennedys, and clam chowder in a bread bowl at Quincy Market. What more could a girl ask for?
So to my mother and sister, and everyone at work in the city today, I hope you are having a wonderful time as I type this snug in my bed with my Yankees comforter wrapped around me. While you're dodging insane cab drivers and attempting to wade through the sea of people to catch a glimpse of the tree in Rockefeller Center, would you be so kind as to pick me up a giant peanut butter bar? Thanks!
My Myers-Briggs personality profile is ISTJ. A quick Google search (go ahead, I'll wait)...will tell you that ISTJs are introverted, prefer quiet, peaceful living, and have a strong belief in following the rules. Why on Earth would anyone put someone like that in a city with a thousand people per sidewalk square, where these mass hordes don't have a moment's hesitation before crossing the street when the giant red hand is clearly indicating DON'T WALK? The very nature of the city upsets my sensibilities. Plus, I had the unfortunate experience of going one time on garbage day, which hits my list as one of the single most unpleasant experiences of my life.
To be fair, I don't hate everything about New York City. I'm a big fan of their sidewalk sales, and have been known to come home with a few new purses that I couldn't otherwise afford. But my brother-in-law, who works in a law enforcement capacity, has implied that some of the items for sale on the streets of the city are not exactly legal. Another thing about ISTJs? We carry a lot of guilt. In our new Coach bags.
Also, I'm a big Yankees fan. We have a Yankees shower curtain and Yankees blankets draped throughout the house. I have Yankees sneakers and a framed poster of Derek Jeter (sigh!) My favorite thing to do in New York is take the train to that utopia of all that is right in baseball, Yankee Stadium, and have my picture taken next to the giant Mickey Mouse dressed in Yankees gear. If there were a way to get there without dealing with the crowds on the subway and outside the stadium, life would be perfect. And again, I'm a big fan of those guys on the sidewalk, selling the jerseys and pennants for a third of the price of what you'd pay inside. But I'll admit, I often have to take a Valium before making the pilgrimage to Yankee Stadium. On the plus side, I rarely get upset on those rare occasions when my team loses, so I'm not going to knock the Valium thing.
Also, the Hershey store in Times Square is nice. But I'm not going to spend my day elbowing my way through rude crowds and stepping over spit and urine on the sidewalks to get a giant Reese's peanut butter bar.
Me, I prefer Boston. Less people, more Kennedys, and clam chowder in a bread bowl at Quincy Market. What more could a girl ask for?
So to my mother and sister, and everyone at work in the city today, I hope you are having a wonderful time as I type this snug in my bed with my Yankees comforter wrapped around me. While you're dodging insane cab drivers and attempting to wade through the sea of people to catch a glimpse of the tree in Rockefeller Center, would you be so kind as to pick me up a giant peanut butter bar? Thanks!
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