Moving to the fifth floor of a walk up building didn’t seem like that bad of an idea at first. Hell, after the muscle destroying move in, I thought the worst was over. Enter June 2009, and the equally hellacious move out of my Fenway abode that has been my home for the past year.
I won’t bore you with the details, as I’m sure you, dear reader, have had your share of apartment moving horror stories. Needless to say, I am glad I have the excitement and anticipation of moving to Manhattan to keep me going throughout the process.
Nerves have been showing their ugly head as of late. I am used to city life, but Boston is no New York. Just a few weeks ago when I went down to The City to look for my future apartment, I made a minor faux pas that I had no idea was possible: males in New York simply do not wear flip flops. Today in my last journey to Boston I saw 30% of the men in today’s hot weather in flip flops. Those few weeks ago it was 95 degrees in New York and I did not see a single man wearing them. Not one man. Strangely this worried me.
What other customs don’t I know about? Is there different taxi etiquette? Colors? Outfits? I’m bringing the bolder choices of my wardrobe, but still I am uneasy. What is waiting for me?