Oy. This is disgusting. Alright, so I still hate Jell-O shots, but at least I gave them another shot. You gave me the strength, New York rooftop. You made me believe. And you make cheap beer taste expensive, so really, you can do no wrong on the day-drinking front.
You are text messages from friends stuck in traffic on their way to the Hamptons. You are outdoor movie theaters. You are hastily made dinner plans with a new friend. You are sloppy sex and falling asleep at 10pm. You are awkward brunch the next morning, New York rooftop.
Bring on the sticky tar paper, the six-floor walkups, the cranky neighbors. Bring on the crosstown traffic jams and the obnoxious bros from 6B. Bring on the sunburn. Nothing can destroy me, New York rooftop. Not high rent, low self-esteem, or LA’s siren song. Not when I have you.