My Internets crapped out yesterday, and I thought I was going to have the DTs. This is especially weird when you stop to consider that I didn’t even use email until my last year of college. (And yes, we had email when I was in college. I’m not that old. I just had a late night, OK?)

Long story short and even less interesting, this means that I’m sitting in the Delancey Starbucks right now, typing away to stave off withdrawal and drinking coffee and feeling much better. It is freakishly clean in here, however. Those of you who are in New York are already familiar with the controversy of putting a Starbucks in an “edgy” neighborhood like the LES. Personally, I like their iced Americanos, so I don’t care. I will say though that sitting at this antiseptic IKEA-style table and looking out the window at a knock-kneed hobo with a weeping sore by his eye is sort of a strange contrast, and it’s making me feel a little dizzy. But then again, I’m just having my coffee now, so who’s to say where the dizziness comes from.

The other night, I was in a brand-new pizza place with my friend the Drunken Mouse, who is a native New Yorker, and therefore pretty amused by my hokiness most of the time, and I kept remarking about how clean the place was.

“Look at the grout!” I exclaimed, pointing at the floor. “It’s white!”

“Yes, it’s very clean,” the Mouse said.

“Have you been to the bathroom? SPARKLING! It was freaking me out.”

He put down his slice. “Listen, in about three weeks will be plenty grungy, just like everything else in this city. Let’s not hate on clean, OK?”

This from a guy who thinks my hand sanitizer is weird.

Published by Jen Hubley Luckwaldt

I'm a freelance writer and editor.

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