Everyone, I have horrific, tragic, deviating news!
I’m…. I’m… (chokes up).
(Breaks down into tears)
Oh, it’s just truly the worst thing that has ever happened in the course of human history. My glorious apartment in the heart of the Upper West Side will be gone. How will I even go on? WHY SHOULD I EVEN CONTINUE LIVING????
And do you know where I’m moving to? Oh, lord, I can’t. I literally. just. can’t.
I can’t even tell you! No! It’s too difficult!
Ok. Deep breath, you can do this… Just say it quick, so it’s out in the world.
I’m moving too… The Upper East Side!
I don’t think you understand. Upper West Side people just aren’t like Upper East Side people. We’re a different breed. I feel like a traitor. I’m going to live on the other side of Central Park.
Upper East Side people are just petty and emotionless. Joan Didion, my absolute least favorite NYC author lives on the Upper East Side. Gross!
I mean, did you ever read ‘Goodbye To All That’?
In the essay, all Joan Didion does is bitch about things and makes mountains out of molehills. She talks about her time in New York City like as if it’s life and death.
That’s the kind of person who lives on the Upper East Side… people who are overdramatic drama queens!
Oh my God, I can’t even believe this. Will I need a passport to visit the Upper West Side now? Is the Upper East Side even part of Manhattan???? I may as well just move to New jersey at this point. Or Wyoming. It’s all the same.
Ugh. I can’t even fathom living around all those delusional, self-obsessed, melodramatic people of the Upper East Side. I should just drink poison like in Romeo & Juliet. That’ll show em.
Fucking drama queens.
Please, pray for me in these trying days to come, I’ll need them…
~ Dark Horse