I’ve been trying for awhile to explain the weird fraternity feel of the neighborhood I live in, and especially how it seems on the streets at night. When my sister and I first moved in we referred to it as both “Testosterone After Dark” and, my addition: “Date Rape; the Neighborhood.” My friend Ben referred to my building as “neverland” because everyone was so fucking young and then Jon said the people reminded him of Californians, but as experienced in Arizona, which is a certain sub-class of Californians– the ones who party too much to get into USC, which is saying a lot, and also referring to quite a few people I went to high school with. (but most of the ones I went to high school with went to USC). But see, my building is filled with the East Coast version of that kind of person, and all I know is that when trapped in an elevator with them at night I can’t wait to get out and then recount to the nearest person whatever great/horrible thing I just overheard.
Anyway, this article says it better than I could, unless the link has already changed in which case it was in the Observer and it’s called Welcome to Murray Hell.
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