Boston

For someone who grew up living on the edge of a beaver pond, I think I've adapted pretty well to life in the city. To be fair, I'm not truly experiencing the complete brute force of it on my own. My college campus provides a very present cushion between myself and the world outside. Despite that, living here has definitely forced me to develop a bit. For the first few months, I would walk down Commonwealth Avenue thinking of all the fun I could have if all those people around me would just go away. There's a set of carved pillar that I've never passed by without a wistful look and a thought of how much I'd like to climb them. I generally plan to wait for a "Stand"-like plague to eliminate most of the population so that I can do so without being interrupted.

I experienced a shift in that line of thinking while eating a burrito about half a month ago. The man who had made it for me was surprisingly friendly and conversational. He had even managed to engage me in a conversation that didn't leave me feeling awkward or nervous (not an easy task). About four bites into the burrito, my teeth hit on something much too hard to belong among beans and cheese. It turned out to be a piece of plastic. I told the manager who happened to be at the register, then had another burrito made for me free of charge. So the friendly employee and I continued our conversation, talking about other horrible and terrifying foreign objects we'd found in food in the past, like glass in salad (or wasps in a pizza box, for that matter). And I didn't even care that I had nearly ingested a shard of plastic. I was downright glad. It had given me a chance to extend a spontaneous human interaction and made me realize how much I enjoy it. So I realized that I do like the city. I love the endless opportunities it gives for people to stumble into each other and do anything at all. This is a tad frightening when you consider the possibilities for harm that it allows, but beyond that, it's mind-boggling and fascinating.