Love doesn't live here anymore – and certainly not in New York City.
From blondes to brunettes, pretty people in Gotham are on a constant search for everlasting love, but somewhere along the Jitney journey to South Hampton, they seem to be content with a pit stop at a sex club.
Why is that I ask?
On my monthly trips to Minneapolis, I am always stunned - no, alarmed - by the numerous happy gay and straight couples and the lack of promiscuous sex. Granted, I find it all boring as hell, but maybe that’s the jaded New Yorker in me. Perhaps, I need to try on a pair of rose-colored glasses and see life in a slightly different hue.
In other words, what is it about big cities that reduces love and intimacy to nothing more than mutual hand jobs in the back of a speeding taxi?