At the Killington Grand in Vermont, where Google New York sends us on our annual ski trip, the party in the evening usually ends up happening in the outdoor hot tubs. They’re adjacent to the outdoor pool, which is warm but not hot.
As I watched more and more people (including myself) crowd into the hot tubs, I began to think of them as being sort of like New York: clearly where the party’s at, but uncomfortably crowded and probably filthy. The big pool, meanwhile, was like Vermont: not as much fun, and definitely colder, but kind of OK once you get used to it — and there was so much space!
Whenever I was in the hot tub, being mashed against a concrete wall by whoever had just plunged in, I would think about making my way out to that big pool, though I knew it would be cold at first, and maybe a bit lonely. And after I hit the pool and got comfortable again, in a little while I would look at how much fun they were having in the hot tubs and decide to plunge back in.
I suppose New York is like that: it’s crowded and exhausting, but every time I leave it, I decompress for a while, but then I just want to plunge back into the hot water.