What I’ll miss: The Strand
A pretty fabulous bookstore, wherein live lots of used books for cheap and lots of new books for not full-price. It’s where I got my Moleskine at a discount. It’s a great place for gifts. It’s where I can and have spent hours floating between stacks, watching people rekindle their love affair with books, breathing in the old-book smell, falling in sinkholes of my own drool as I crack the spines of hundreds of lovely, wonderful books. It’s not literal drool, mind you, the spittle drool; it’s soul drool. My soul salivates, and no one has stopped ringing the bell. I know reminiscing about the Strand will elicit a similar response, but not the same …

What I won’t miss: That homeless dude who told me I didn’t give him enough money
It was about 6:30AM one hot summer morning. I was on my way home from … 112th Street. The guy approached me, I had no change. I was pretty flustered to begin with, and he wasn’t going to leave me alone. I opened my wallet and found $1 and $5. I said, what the heck, and gave him $1, which is A LOT OF MONEY. He then said, I know you have more, I want to get me some fried chicken. What nerve, I KNOW YOU HAVE MORE?! I made like I was going to take the money back, but instead I said – more like yelled – Be grateful I gave you anything at all, and he flinched a little and I walked away in an aggravated huff. I can’t even afford fried chicken. Gee whiz.