I don’t know if I agree that it’s rare for New Yorkers to share special experiences, but I am totally on board with the idea that the shared oppression of triple-digit heat is bonding. It’s like we’re all in the foxhole together.
A hot, sweaty, sticky foxhole.
If you’re sweating like crazy, what’s something good to come from it? Is it forcing you to slow down and relax a little? To get to know your neighbors better because they have a pool? To remember to look out for the elderly on your block?
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Heat Wave In Washington Square (via The Skopeo Project)
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