Not caring is one of the best ways to have fun in NYC.
Like getting soaked in a sprinkler with a school of Kindergarten children. And after being soaked running along side the working class New Yorkers of Manhattan.
Or maybe you spill a chocolate icy on your nose, shirt, shorts, and legs. And this is after returning your custard icy when you realized it contained nuts. (And you are deadly allergic)
Or maybe you scream when the icy freezes your teeth. Loud enough so the lady walking her dogs turns her head in fright.
And then of course you laugh.
You laugh. Laugh. LAUGH.
Maybe you are 13. And need to get into the YMCA, because it's HOT out. And you enter the YMCA but the person working the booth is really tough. You try to sneak in, because your friend is a member. Her name is Say - Ruh. She tells him you are going to get a guest pass upstairs if he will just excuse you...
But no. You need to have an adult. So you spend the next hour searching outside for a parent to pretend to be your mother or father for the purpose of just getting in the building. And without luck, you sit on the ground as a teenage hobo. With a chocolate smudged face, shirt, shorts, and legs, with your friend Say- Ruh.
So you finally get in, and you need to be 14. You are secretly 13. But who cares. What does one year differ?
But when you get on the machienes. You are still an imature 13 year old. Maybe if you were 14 you wouldn't close your eyes while on the tread- mill and manage to fall backwards onto a lady ready to go for a swim. Maybe your friend wouldn't start laughing awfully loud while making witch movements on the bicycle, and cause you to laugh uncontrolably.
But maybe you wouldn't have this fun.