My boyfriend, Josh, and I would play the part of suave urbanites, taking in the Big Apple like natives. Josh wasn't as eager as I to shed our Midwestern-ness, but he agreed to go along with it. At the airport, we coolly hailed a cab. I gave the cabbie the address and reclined against the faded leather seat, shooting Josh a look of confidence as we pulled away from the curb. I was perplexed.
Most people here wear black.
I mentally cursed. I should have remembered. Black at all times. Things didn't go any better at the hotel. The bellboy smirked when we earnestly insisted we could carry our own bags.