I’m conflicted about my love for New York City’s Chinatown. On a warm day, Canal Street smells like something that crawled out of your lower intestine and died right there on the sidewalk. It’s wall-to-wall people; some who will never leave that neighborhood and tourists looking for cheap faux designer bags. You get jostled from one block to the next and when you finally break free from the crowds you want to wash all that human contact away.
But other times, when it’s dark and you’re looking for trouble or something on the shady side, it’s a perfect fit. I’ve always preferred my evenings to be on the shady side.
“We’re not happy ‘til we’re running away…” – from Wild Nothing’s “Chinatown”