Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday nights in New York City: home respectively at 3am, 2am, 5am, and 3am. Ug. The 5am wasn’t my fault; late in the night, the subway connects slowly from Brooklyn to Manhattan. I lumbered home at 5am to beat dawn and the breakdown of my circadian rhythm. At my parents’ house, I’m usually in bed at 10pm to read a book.
I planned this weekend to explore New York’s unseemly nightlife. Mission accomplished. I report that bar prices range from expensive to astronomical. I chaffed at a $12 shot of Jameson whiskey, only to buy later a $12 can of beer. Perhaps my upcoming era of sobriety needs to arrive before destitution.