I hate you, LA, but I can't help but feel bad for you this time. You're coming off the worst drought in modern history, headed into a formidable wildfire season, and the paper of record is telling New York's "creatives" to fetishize you as a a lush westward oasis covered in affordable housing, outdoor dinner parties with those stupid hang-y string lights, and thriving opportunity. It's a raw deal.
On the upside, if everyone leaves, maybe I'll be able to afford Brooklyn for a few more years. Better you than me, Los Angeles. Better you than me.
Dave Infante is a senior writer for Thrillist, and while he may someday leave Brooklyn, it won't be for LA. Follow @dinfontay on Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat.