Living in New York City, there are certain inevitables that occur. Things that happen here that don’t really happen anywhere else. Things are bound to happen, like:
- Getting stuck on a subway car with no air conditioning. In August. Nothing like the smell of ball sweat and freshly baked homeless guy to liven up your evening commute.
- Finding a giant, thug water bug in your apartment at least once a summer. This happens even if you’re as neat and clean as Felix Unger. Thug Bugs will suddenly show up, just to remind you that they’re there and they can take over whenever they wish and you’re living on borrowed time.
- Turning tricks to pay the summer Con Ed bill. (Con Ed is responsible for more desperate people turning to prostitution for money that Meth, Crack and Heroin combined.)
- Wanting to stab tourists. Stab them to death. Over and over and over again.
And, in life, you’re bound to run into people at a bad time, just when you don’t want to see them. Like running into an ex-boyfriend while you’re doing laundry and wearing your extra special “laundry pants”. Seeing your landlord when you’re a week late on the rent. But there is particular kind of NYC inevitable event to which I refer.
And that involves New York City Firefighters (FDNY).