He felt re-engergized after taking a shower. He put on a pair of shorts and a tank top, and flipped on his sandals. He searched through his small handbag, and found his sunglasses. He put them on, grabbed his keys, and locked his apartment door behind him.
The sun was decending slowly behind the tall buildings. He figured that he'd go to a bar and try to see if he could meet some people. Most of his friends were either in Montanna or in California. As he walked, he seemed to see every type of race on the sidewalk. He heard all different kinds of languages. It felt weird. When he was in California, all he heard was English and Spanish. There were few Chinese or Japanese, or European.
He finally got onto a road where it seemed that's all there was was bars and clubs. It was hard to move with the crowd of people swarming in and out of them. He tried to be as polite as he could, but after a few minutes, he gave up, and started shoving back. He guessed he'd have to be strong to live in New York City. No one wanted a sap who could easily be pushed.
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