This may come as a shock to some people, but Brooklyn is a filthy lie. Ok well that may be a bit dramatic sounding, but the boro that defines “hip” for so many people, is really not all that it’s cracked up to be.
These are my opinions. This is how I feel about the situation. I’m not sure how typical these feelings are for other Brooklyn transplants, but this is just my two cents. I feel like, perhaps, if more people thought like I did about Brooklyn, things would change. But who knows. So anyway…..
Let’s start with a little background on me.
I’m a product of suburban America, there’s no hiding that. I was born in the suburbs of Boston, and spent my formative years in the suburbs of New York City (Rockland County). Technically I guess you could say it’s upstate, but people in Rockland wouldn’t agree with you.
Growing up where I did, New York City was always the beacon of hope for humanity, and the promise of better things. I won’t try to hide the fact that, for the most part, I hate Rockland County. That’s a topic for another blog, but suffice it to say it’s no place for a person with dreams or ambitions.
Not that suburban life (at least for me) was ever that hard. There is something about the suburbs (maybe just Rockland County) that grinds you down, and makes you fear for the future of the human race. Again, something I’ll get into in another post.
As a teenage, and then 20-something suburb dweller, New York City was the ultimate goal. It was the place to aspire to. So when the time came for me to finally extradite myself permanently, and turn in my passport for the great nation of Suburbia, my thoughts of course turned to Brooklyn.
No Sleep Till….
Ahh Brooklyn, Kings County, the international tastemaker. Of course that’s where I should go and put down my new roots. Which is exactly what I did, but it wasn’t easy. The first thing most people talk about these days when you say Brooklyn, is Williamsburg. Hipster Capital, USA. And it most certainly is that. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
So I started off looking there for apartments there, but goddamn is it expensive. I’m talking like reallllllllly expensive. Going back even just a few years, it wasn’t that bad. Sadly as more and more people were called to the neighborhood of hip, things got really expensive. Personally, I blame the banker bros. You know the kind of people I’m talking about.
Anyway, after Williamsburg was out it was Bushwick, where I currently reside (until November). Ahh Bushwick. The image of Bushwick I had before I arrived was of a sort of cut rate Williamsburg. Hip, but affordable. A bit more dangerous than Williamsburg, but still hip and full of life. Plus it’s also right next to Williamsburg, so I can just pretend I live there. Right? Sure that sounds great, I said to myself. Then it was time to enlist in the Bushwick army.
I found some roommates (ugh), put down a deposit, and I was in. The apartment is right around the corner from Broadway, and is probably more Bed-Stuy than anything else. But who cares right? I’m in Brooklyn, Life Is Sweet. Well sort of.
The thing they don’t tell you about Brooklyn is the pressure, and the constant tension. When I get off the J-Train from work I can pretty much cut it with a knife. It’s not good. Now you might be thinking, “What tension are you talking about Mike? You’re an idiot.” And to you I say stick with me here, and I’ll explain it in my next post.
Or at least stick around for the gifs, they’re hilarious.