Melting Snowflakes

My bff, V, is not a supporter of the snowflake theory, at least not as it relates to the inhabitants of New York City. She has lived in Brooklyn for two years and says that no matter who you meet, they are “a dime a dozen,” contending that every "type" possibly imagined not only exists here, but in large quantities. This rather pessimistic view of the human experience is anathema to that of our childhoods; that touchy-feely-Barney-the-dinosaur attitude that “everyone is special”

On hipster main street Bedford Ave in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn, this guy wearing a major brand's signature briefs, and albeit little else, is neither weird nor special:



And neither is this gal. Her chest pain was for naught:


And frankly I'm afraid, this blog post is not that special either. You've heard it all before. I live in a land where the more special you try to be, the less you succeed. Irony. (Not that kind, but the actual kind in this case.)

So if there are dozens of denizens of every type in NYC, that means there are dozens meeting my exact specifications. And to be had for a dime! I wonder if I ought not be a bit choosier.

...And finally readers, here is a last call for questions on dating, love, making out, relationships, and whatever else floats your boats. I do encourage you to ask. In my next post, all answers shall be revealed.