I just unintentionally moved into the most expensive ZIP code in America (click for cool photos!). The Upper East Side is largely residential, but 10065 touches Midtown, which is more retail and corporate.
It’s still New York, so it has that gritty feel to it despite the Fifth Avenue stores, Ferrari dealership and pricey townhomes with celebrity residents. I like that, but I know the UES is not for me. It kind of feels like an itchy sweater I want out of. Sure, there are some normal people – like the ones I see walking to work in the morning – but there is also a whole lotta snobbiness.
Maybe my feeling is exacerbated by the fact that I moved in in the middle a massive Manhattan power outage. The city was literally split between the haves and have-nots (electricity speaking), but so many Lennox Hill residents didn’t seem to notice or care. I thought it was appalling to see people wasting an afternoon getting their nails done when people just down the street were cold and displaced.
A friend told me I have a touch of “survivor’s guilt.” Maybe so. That doesn’t mean other people lack compassion. Maybe they tried to volunteer and got turned away due to a surplus of volunteers, like I did. Maybe they took seven of their closest friends in. Heck, maybe they were the downtown refugees out for some pampering while they couldn’t go home. I don’t know and it’s not for me to judge.
But I know in my heart that this neighborhood in general does not have the same priorities and values I have. When I go to bed at night, I like to think about what I accomplished that day. It wouldn’t make me feel good to think, “I hired people do my laundry, raise my kids, make me dinner and walk my miniature dog, so I could make a huge commission off someone who spent a boatload of cash.”
Nope, not the life I want.