I spent my first year of college in New York City.
School of Visual Arts. It was the only college I applied to. If I
didn't get accepted there, I wasn't interested in going to college at
parents tried very hard to convince me to stay close to home, maybe try
out community college and save some money. They obviously didn't
understand that I was an ARTIST. How was I supposed to gain any
credibility as a SERIOUS ARTIST at a COMMUNITY COLLEGE in MARYLAND?
I couldn't have cared less that the cost of tuition for one
semester at SVA was equivalent to four years at a local University. Money wasn't an issue...I knew paying back my student loans would be a BREEZE once I was molded into the next Ansel Adams. I had no doubt that once I was in the glamorous Big Apple, inspiration would hit me like a bolt
of lightning and my career as a professional photographer would
take off. Fame and fortune were undoubtedly in my future.
Much to my surprise, things did not go as planned.
Not even halfway through my first semester, I was crying uncle. I begged my parents to let me drop out and come back home. I felt less inspired than ever and had to face the harsh reality that there was absolutely nothing glamorous about that city. Carrie Bradshaw never said anything about trash lined streets and the constant smell of urine.
The stench of garbage and homeless person tinkle weren't the only factors that contributed to my short lived stay in Manhattan. My early departure can also be attributed to the three W's: wind tunnels, weirdos, and wieners.
1: Wind Tunnels: The wind tunnels in New York are absolutely awful. You never know when a big gust is going to hit. You could be strolling down Broadway, the weather seemingly quite agreeable, then turn on to Fifth Avenue and BAM. Next thing you know, the wind is blowing up your dress and you're flashing three thousand tourists your snack pack. Oh, and forget about using an umbrella on a rainy day...the wind would suck it into a useless pile of scrap metal no longer than thirty seconds after stepping outside.
2. Weirdos: So. Many. Weirdos. Typically, I embrace all things weird and wacky. I consider myself to be a pretty odd individual so when people warned me how "special" New Yorkers were, I brushed it off my shoulders...I knew I would fit in just fine. WRONG. I was SO wrong and COMPLETELY out of my league. My classmates watched midget porn during lectures (weird), took selfies of their flaccid penises for class projects (weird), and admitted to taking shadoobies on glass tables to arouse their significant others (WEIRD).
My classmates were definitely certified weirdos, but I think the weirdest person I stumbled across that year was the Turret's Fellow I met on the subway. I sat next to this man for an hour one day as he verbally assaulted every man, woman, and child that stepped foot in our train car. I felt bad for him at first because whenever he had an outburst, everyone would switch cars to get away from him and he would sadly yell, "IT'S BECAUSE I HAVE TURET'S ISN'T IT!?" I stuck it out with the poor guy for a while because I knew if I had this disease, I would want everyone to carry on with their business as usual.
Then he called me a "fucking whore" and things got awkward.
I hopped off and waited for the next train. It was definitely because he had Turet's.
3. Wieners: I saw more wieners during my first year of college than I would have seen at a state fair hot dog eating contest. One might suggest that many females see plenty of wieners during their first year of college...and to that I would say TRUE. BUT those skanks are seeing said wieners according to their own free will. The wieners I saw that year were NOT by choice. None of them.
As mentioned above, I saw lots of penises in photographs...but it doesn't stop there. Most of the woo-hoos I saw in New York were actually up close and in person. Apparently the subway is the best kept secret if you're looking to see some wang. I saw a dude checking out his disco stick in the reflection of the window on a train, I saw a fellow with his red rocket sticking out of the fly hole in his pants (which was NO accident), I even saw a man dry humping a fellow passenger one day during rush hour traffic. TECHNICALLY I didn't see his member, per say...but it was still way more than I bargained for.
My youngest sister is college hunting...as is my brother-in-law. Both of their top schools are New York City colleges. Whenever they ask me about my experience and whether I enjoyed my time in the city, I make sure I tell them about the three W's.