Here is a list of New York…inconveniences. Quirks, if you will. Tiny little warts on the face of our otherwise glorious metropolis. On a scale of 1–5, rate the following aggravations by how crazy they make you. (1 = It doesn't even bother me; 5 = I lose my shit.)
Standing in a line, well dressed and polite, and being told I must pay $2,000 for five $20 bottles of vodka, while two 17-year-olds call each other “ho” and traipse through the ropes.