I drove a U-Haul from Texas to Hell's Kitchen/Clinton in 2001. I’ve since learned that every time I tell people that, they’ll respond, “Wait... did you...?” -- at which point I have to clarify that I moved here in March, or they’ll inevitably assume I showed up September 10th.
I’ve also learned that in a city of over eight million, you’ll meet at least five people who did move here September 10th. If you stay long enough, you’ll meet at least five of everyone, and every one of them will be completely different.
But the first thing I learned about New York was that it’s the least lonely place in the universe.
Lonely is 13 years after you don’t move to New York, when you’re standing in a 24-Hour Fitness doing lateral deltoid raises so your body might reasonably approximate the much younger work bros you started hanging out with after the last of your real friends got married and/or remarried. Lonely is standing on your work bro's boat at "Party Cove", waiting for a girl to come twerk on you, but nobody comes to twerk on you, no matter how hard you work those delts.