When I first visited New York I got off the plane feeling somewhat scared. Little boy in a big town expecting to be chewed up, spat out and ripped off. I was certain I would be mugged. As I waited in the line for the taxi, I turned tothe guy behind me and asked how much I should expect to pay for a fare to 81st St. He said he lived within walking distance of that very address and would share a cab. As we drove in he talked about his travels and the kind people he had met. When we arrived at our destination he refused to let me even contribute to the fare. In short, my first experience on a New York street was trying to stuff money into someone else's pocket. The next day when the paperboy called me back because I had given him too much money, I started to question whether I was in some alternate universe.
Jeremy Corbett in New York.
MISS
I was awoken at 3am in Ko Pha-Ngan by a disturbing amount of bass. There was no full moon. Leaving Megan sleeping, I tracked it to the resort next door, where a small bar was playing crushing dubstep to two drunk Brits. I politely asked the DJ to turn it down. He dismissively said "no". Upset at his rudeness, I had a moment of madness and pulled the wires out of the stereo. Silence. As I walked away a beer glass whistled past my head. Heart thumping I made my way back to our resort, sticking to the tree line, trying not to be seen by three angry pursuers shouting in Thai. One carrying a sword. The creek I crossed must have been some sort of boundary because they stopped. I still clearly remember them standing on the opposite bank screaming plaintively at me, "Why you pull the wire from our stereo?" Another beer glass smashed on the rock next to me. I held Megan close that night and did not sleep. We left the very next morning, three days earlier than planned.
