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Find out more about Shiwani: Shiwani Srivastava is a freelance writer and a general wanderer (and wonderer) of the world. She lived in New York City for six years before moving to Seattle in 2005 to attend graduate school at the University of Washington. She currently lives in Seattle, but remains a Jersey girl at heart. |
I'm feeling a little homesick. No one's flipped me the bird, tried to run me over, or openly rolled their eyes at me in a while. It's not that New Yorkers are rude - they're just more familiar (you know, total strangers sharing their medical histories and major failures).
In my opinion, it sure beats the "Seattle Freeze" - people being nice enough, but never personal, which can be exhausting for newcomers seeking friends. And over the weekend, I had several encounters that reminded me why public interaction in Seattle can leave East Coasters feeling like they're in the Twilight Zone:
1.) When I was shopping for used CDs, a store clerk inexplicably handed me a cheaper version of an ablum I was about to buy. He seemed to possess no ulterior motives, nor any alien qualities...
2.) My cab driver and I had a conversation ... enough said.
3.) I was practically awarded a medal of honor for obeying the law by a pedestrian who waved, smiled, and mouthed "thank you" when I stopped at a clearly-marked crosswalk with flashing yellow lights.
Okay, maybe I disproved my own point. I'm glad that every day in Seattle isn't a Darwinian struggle. But I admit it - I miss the adrenaline rush from being a part of the implicit "Who's the most badass New Yorker?" competition and that weirdly familiar banter that leaves you with a smile on your face thinking, "I feel like I've known this person for years."
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