The worst misconception that people seem to have about anybody who lives in the city of New York is that we are eternal and tireless tourists. That on Mondays we stroll around Central Park, ramble around Central Park Zoo, and have a picnic over the green meadows as we gaze at our privileged landscape of nature and civilization. Tuesdays we visit downtown Manhattan, bargain with Asians in Chinatown over a stinky brand imitation bag, and have pasta for dinner with the Italians in Little Italy. Wednesdays we shop around SoHo and have a break at Washington Square Park while somebody harmonically plays the fiddle and expects a tip in return. Thursdays we cross the Brooklyn Bridge and go to Times Square to have our photograph taken. Fridays we reach
