When the National Mall fireworks ended, we marched with hordes of people down dark and unfamiliar streets, past waterfront restaurants that smelled like fishing piers and across a street that required walking down a flight of stairs and up a flight of stairs. At the end of the walking maze, we entered a Metro Station that was a mob of people so closely packed, I feared Evan being trampled. We stood in the hot and cramped room of people with crying babies and drunks saying “Moo” for what seemed like forever.
Me: “This is what it’s like to live in New York.”
Evan: “I changed my mind. I don’t want to move to New York any more.”