Good traditions are a cool thing. My friend from Alaska and I have one – to see each other every summer. A couple of days together - a year of waiting, a couple of days together - a year of waiting... A year of missing each other, sending messages, and definitely knowing that a new meeting is just around the corner. For three years, Sasha came to visit me in Belarus – but for the fourth summer, the one that coincided with my trip to the States, we chose New York as our meeting point. August 26, 2015. I am in the very center of Manhattan. Well, I am - me and (hello again!) my unliftable suitcase with all sorts of things in one hand, a longboard in the other, a backpack stuffed with gifts on my shoulders – where to go, what to do – I had zero clue. "I won't get lost, it's not my first time in an unfamiliar city, right?" I thought, squeezing myself and all my belongings into the nearest Starbucks. "I'll catch some Wi-Fi now, and everything will go smoothly." A week before the trip to New York, Sasha and I found a roof over our heads on airbnb.com – a room in a Brooklyn art apartment. Its owner, a charismatic American named Dana, promised to give me the key to the front door as soon as I arrived at the destination – somewhere in the Nassau Ave area. Where that was and what it was, I could only guess. I sent her a message saying I would arrive in an hour and decided that catching a taxi was the best solution to the problem. Expensive? Yes, but did I work all summer for nothing? I can splurge a little! To be honest, my "splurging" didn't go so well. I got into the first car I saw, driven by a Black driver, thinking he would whisk me away to the desired Nassau, but at some point, I realized that everything was not going according to plan. "Hey, why are you so shy? This is New York – a city of great opportunities – everyone here is open to new acquaintances," the man interrupted the silence. "Why on earth should I say anything at all?" I thought. "And I'm not shy, just tired from the road," I blurted out in response. "Ah," the driver continued, "I understand! Listen, what if a guy showed you his penis, what would you do? You'd probably run away, right? Nobody has done that here for a long time! Do you know how to behave? Well, you have to tell that guy, like, 'ooh, how huge,' or 'pfft, not impressive' – this is New York! I was shy at first too, well, when I first arrived here, but then this city changed me!" I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Why? Why am I always lucky with some kind of jerks?! Oh, I'll just bury myself in my phone, abstract myself, pretend I'm busy, maybe he'll back off," my brain worked intensely. At some point, I realized that our "carriage" was starting to slow down, pulling over to the side of the road. Mentally, I was bombarding this psychopath with every bad word in my arsenal and preparing for the worst. "Hey, look, come on," he said to me in a near whisper. I decided not to show anything: "Hey, sir, can we just go already!" - "Hey, hey, come on, look!" I wish I hadn't looked at all. Moving close to the glass partition separating the driver and passenger, I looked forward – the "sir" was sitting with his pants unzipped and stroking his private parts. I screamed. A minute later, we moved off. "That'll be 40 dollars." - "No problem, thank God we arrived at all!" - I was ready to scream with happiness – I'm finally getting out to freedom! - "Just don't tell the police, okay? We're all friends here, okay? I just wanted to show you what New York is, okay? Because my buddy showed a girl too, and now he's in jail. Don't tell, okay?" - "God, okay, just drive away already!" After getting the keys to the apartment, I decided that for "today," NY was more than enough for me. I spent lunch and the evening in our Brooklyn hole, waiting for Sasha and processing everything that had happened to me. After that, it was much calmer. Our New York days always followed the same plan: at nine in the morning, while Sasha was fin


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