Andrew Sullivan hated living in New York City, which you already knew because he made sure you knew about it for the year or so that he was able to hack it here. Sullivan moved back to Washington D.C. last year, leaving in a dusty cliche cloud of Joan Didion quotes. But he's back visiting, and he wants you to know he still hates what he calls "the Big Rotten Apple."
After having a terrible experience staying in a Manhattan hotel last time ("thermostat didn’t work"!), he tried his luck with Airbnb in Brooklyn.
"The cab driver took me twenty blocks in the wrong direction and my only hope was Google Maps. After directing the cabbie, I arrived to find the loft oppressively hot, and with no air-conditioning (despite its listing). It also had no drapes or shades so I was woken woken up at dawn today, and then, after trying to get back to sleep, by pneumatic drilling at a vast construction site next door. All in all: five hours sleep. If I’m cranky today, you know why. So I’m moving to a generic chain hotel today. Wish me luck, as I struggle with the shitty wifi that is another of this city’s memorials to the 20th Century."
Five hours? Five hours of sleep is worthy of an angry blog post? We got five hours in five weeks when we were fighting in the Smoke Alarm Wars but someone get Andrew Sullivan a box fan and some ear plugs.
Wait, there's more?
"I was also reminded of one of the unique charms of NYC in the summer: vast piles of rotting garbage piled on the sidewalks, with that sweet yet nauseating smell of decomposing groceries sitting in the humid fetid air, and rancid food juices oozing over the sticky sidewalks. With my windows open to counter the stuffiness, I could occasionally catch a whiff of the stench outside. People actually like living in this chaotic, fetid monument to incompetence? Beats me."
We understand this place isn't for the weak, Mr. Sullivan, and we mean this in the most charmingly New York way possible: STFU, and don't let the Fuggedaboutit sign hit you on the way out.