New York City trip report from February 2026.
People and walking were the focus of the trip. Few interactions, lots of observations.
I saw gangs of kids—evidently self-sorted by the demographics of age, race, and ethnicity—walking home from school together, goofing off on the sidewalks but still being mindful of the passerby and traffic. Some spoke English, others French, others Italian. I've never heard Italian being spoken anywhere in my home city. Ages ranged from around 8 to 17. Some looked to be from well-off families based on the luxurious clothes they were wearing, while others looked to be middle to lower class with visible holes and fraying. They didn't stare in wonder at the skyscrapers or cultural melting point that surrounded them because it was just another day in the city. Did they realize they were in one of the coolest cities in the world? Or was it just meh?
I saw bicycle delivery riders quickly loading up their racks with goods and taking off to haul ass to the drop-off spot. They were in and out of the store in seconds (if the order was ready) to just a few minutes (if the order was still being prepared). Supply of and demand for these riders both seemed high—in a city whose unofficial motto seems to be "time is money", these workers offer a straightforward way to pay for time back. Their bikes weren't always the best, but they sure as hell hustled in the form of physical exertion, breaking traffic laws, and risking crashes with pedestrians or snow and ice patches. Most of them had insulated hand garages (I hesitate to call them gloves or mittens) attached to the bars that were easy to slip in and out of and kept their hands from freezing to the handlebars. The bikes were poorly maintained, plagued by the salt meant to keep drivers safe. One-way street were often suggestions.
I saw suit-wearing professionals walking quickly from the place they got a bite to eat back into the office. I saw the same class of person leaving the office late at night, long after the sun had set and the temperatures had dipped even further from the frigid daytime lows. They were well-groomed, well-dressed, and on a mission, both to get back to the office and whatever deal or trade they were currently pursuing (or home, to do some other ambitious activity if they still had the energy), but also to move up in the city's compensation and status rankings.
I saw the inside of what I'm guessing is an average NYC apartment, walking up four flights of narrow, tight-U-turn stairs and wondering how the heck they get any furniture that isn't broken down up there. The kitchen and living room were one, allowing for a small couch and television. The bedroom barely fit a double bed and desk. The bathroom had a sink, toilet, and shower—simple stuff. And it was a certain type of beautiful. The tenants had to consider everything that came inside and if it made sense to keep it; there's a potential opportunity cost by keeping some item that will never be used but is taking up valuable space. In the end I saw very little wasted space. I also wonder if small apartments like this encourage people to spend more time out and about (because it can be cramped) or more time in (because it's cozy and homey). My guess is that people don't change appreciably one way or the other when they move in to a place like this, but it may just reinforce their behavior. I'm lucky to live in a rather large, luxurious apartment at the time of writing where I don't have to consider things I bring it, although this has its downsides.
I ate at small restaurants where myself and the person I was eating with were the only ones. I could feel their need to please us, to get a five-star rating from us, to get us to come back or recommend the place to our friends. It's amazing the risk these people are taking given how expensive NYC is, how rough restaurant margins are, and how competitive the food scene in NYC is (but on second thought, there's definitely a market for the places I was eating at—cheap-ish, basic food that tastes fine). I wonder what the literature says. I witnessed single women dining together lamenting about their dating prospects, old couples doting over each other at a candlelit dinner, teenagers running in for a quick slice.
I visited a bookshop dedicated to the mystery genre, where the sole worker knew where multiple books I asked about were and gave me detailed rundowns of the subgenres of each. The various niches—businesses, communities, people, and everything in between—that exist within NYC are fascinating.
I met a founder who had been grinding for the past few years and was just starting to see the fruits of their labor pay off. I overheard a founder at a coffee shop talking about the latest and greatest in AI, pitching his business model to what appeared to be a potential employee.