You’re Young Min, the dude who moved all of his belongings from Flushing, Queens to the Upper West Side last week using only the subway? And the help of your friends, or, uh, former friends, seeing as how they haven’t returned your calls since you had them schlep your:
- air conditioner
- collapsible double-rod closet
- dishes (including serving platters and utensils)
- assorted framed pictures
- a soup cauldron
- Korean medicine
- AND a 40-pound bag of rice
Listen, I know you’re really confused and all “What gives?” right now. So let me just assure you, it’s not you, it’s them. (Perhaps you’ve heard this one before.) But seriously. If your so-called “friends” can’t appreciate the extraordinary feat you’ve just achieved by moving all your worldly shit from one borough to another on not one but TWO subway lines, with a transfer in Times Square, the most heinous of ratholes hellholes justplainholeholes stations, they don’t deserve to be called friends.
Because sure, you coulda called a moving company. Or The Man with a Van (there seem to be quite a few of those guys these days). You coulda even been The Man–with a Van–by renting a truck at Budget for about $20 a day, not including mileage. But where’s the fun in that? Private transportation is for PUSSIES!!! That’s how you probably pitched it to your friends–er, former friends–am I right?
“No, seriously, guys, moving my shit will be a friendship builder! It’s like a scavenger hunt, only you don’t have to find stuff! It’s like a camp game, but in the urban jungle! It’s like a trust fall, only more butch! It’s like, it’s like…oh hell, I dunno, think of the camaraderieeeee!!!”
And sure, there are probably going to be naysayers who’ll question the cost-effectiveness of moving some of your possessions, particularly that 40 lb. bag of rice. They’ll say, “Couldn’t he have ditched the $25 bag of rice [Assuming you go for the low-end, and, ah, something tells me you do.--Ed] and bought himself a new one?” But those people clearly don’t understand the importance of a 40 lb. bag of rice to an Asian person. (Or how difficult it is to find a 40 lb. bag of rice on the Upper West Side.) Those know-nothings will say, “Was it really worth losing friends over a 40 lb. bag of rice?”
And let me just say to you, Young Min–which sounds a helluva lot like Young Man–which you are at 24, not that I’m implying you have a lot to learn: Don’t listen to those people. Those people are crazy. They don’t know what they’re talking about. Having expectations of your friends is normal, even if it tweaks a back or two. Moving condiments is totally sane. Hauling stuff on the subway is goddamn democratic. And not being able to part with a body bag of rice isn’t cheap and weird, it’s, um, what’s the word? Cultural.
Seriously, dude. It’s not you. It’s them.
Filed under: Friends, It's Not You It's Me, New York City Subway, New Yorker Moves All Of His Belongings On Subway, Rice, Times Square, Weird New Yorker Behavior, With Friends Like That Who Needs Enemies, Young Min
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