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New York: The Laziest City in the World

By Stephanie Berger
12/11/07
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I’ve recently come to realize that New York City needs a new nickname. I propose that “The City that Never Sleeps” is a tired misnomer — as one of my friends observed recently, stores close in New York just as early as they do everywhere else. Sure, the lights in Times Square stay bright and the bars stay open a few hours later, but I’ve still yet to find the 24-hour shopping mall that I dreamed must exist when I first moved here.

So from this point forward, I’ll be referring to NYC by its new nickname: The City That Never Does Anything For Itself. Allow me to explain. One of the best parts of living in a major metropolis is that anything you could possibly need is never more than a few blocks away. If I’m out of milk, there are six markets in a three block radius. I want a slice of pizza? Three Italian restaurants beckon in the same area. It seems almost too good to be true — I never have to get in the car and wait in traffic if I need cough syrup, laundry detergent, or Oreo cookies.

But it seems that the easier an item is to obtain, the more likely a New Yorker will be to make somebody else obtain it for them. Nearly every restaurant in the city delivers, meaning that in the time that I walk down the block for my slice, I could have a guy pedal it over on his bike for only an extra buck or two. Many grocery stores let you order online and have your bags delivered for free. And depending on where you live in the city, even your desire for late night drinks and dessert can be fulfilled with just a phone call, or for the ultra-lazy, through an online ordering form.

I didn’t think I would fall prey to the NYC “gotta-have-it-now” mentality until a recent phone call with a friend. I was praising the sushi restaurant I had discovered down the street. “It’s only a block away,” I raved. “And they even deliver!” I heard myself saying, immediately wishing I could take the fatal words back.

Another big city luxury I never thought I’d give in to was having my laundry done for me. I’m a big girl and I can wash my own clothes, thank you very much — I don’t need some greasy-pawed laundry ladies touching my dirty panties. But I soon realized that for just a few dollars more than I was paying to wash and fold my own sheets and towels, said laundry ladies (who are really quite nice, I assure you) could do my dirty work for me. I’ll have you know I still don’t drop off my panties, though. That’s just nasty.

All of the conveniences of the city save my valuable time, which allows me to indulge in my favorite activity: sleeping. You know, that thing the city supposedly never does.

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