Inspired by Audacia Ray’s post, 10th Anniversary: Love Letters to NYC,  and upon only recently venturing back to town myself, I’ve decided to list some things that have made my 12 or more (on and off) years of living in New York well worth the cramped quarters and lack of outdoor space. These do not include the obvious list of friends and loved ones that it should include. That would get boring, and this isn’t about that.

• The lady on the Williamsburg Bridge on a sweltering summer day who decided that it would be best to walk across the bridge with her shirt unbuttoned and bra exposed, then suffer through the heat.

• There was also the homeless man who scammed me and my friend in Washington Square Park. He gave the whole schpeel about selling papers for Street News, which was once this homeless paper that was made and distributed for homeless people in New York, but now it no longer exists. When they’d approach you to buy a paper, they had this very scripted dialogue that says I know it’s not the best job, but it’s a job that keeps me off the streets, etc. Anyway, he said the schpeel, and then I bought a paper from him for $2, only to realize he just sold me the free Metro paper I could have picked up for myself, in any green box around the city.

• Saint Reverend Jen has a troll museum in her apartment. Not to mention her ridiculously cute sidekick, Reverend Jen Jr. There’s something about walking down the street and bumping into an art star and her faithful chihuahua that - without fail - will always make me smile.

• You never know who might stop by, or when. When I worked at Babeland, Michael Stipe came into the store to make the video for Supernatural, Superserious, and before that Moby opened up a tea shop two doors down from where we were. Plus David Lee Roth lived around the corner, and Paul’s Boutique (think Beastie Boys) was just across the street. But still, the star that got the most attention was always Richard Bey (at least when I used to book stars on radio). I think it’s a New York thing.

• While I don’t love, or agree with, the Disneyfication of Times Square, there’s something ridiculous about the fact that when sex was bleached out of parts of New York, they brought in Disney. Especially since Disney is the dirtier of the two options.

• Hearing stories about a friend’s $10 hand jobs (back in the day) - the ones he’d get off of 10th Avenue somewhere up in the 30’s (I’m talking streets, not years). Not to mention the whole ring of sex that was happening at Little Michael’s deli back in the late 1990s. And you could also walk into a bar of the most beautiful women in the world, only to find out they were, or are, men.

• That no matter how lonely it is, it’s never that lonely when you live in an apartment building and the walls are thin. Which reminds me that when you can hear your neighbors experiencing an ecstatic, orgasmic moment, that’s pretty cool too. And a total turn on.

• I’ve watched my own porn in a theater, and large restaurant (for Porn Week). And Cinekink and the Pleasure Salon were both started here. Plus, we have a group called Kinky Jews and an erotic party called Chemistry. We may not have as much happening sexually as say, San Francisco, but still, we’ve got it going on.

• The Sex Blogger Calendar and the love and community that made it all happen.

• Individuality and the subtle (or not so subtle) appreciation of its uniqueness. Especially in the form of the made-up man, who sits on the steps of some upscale furniture store everyday, wearing only white clothes (including white gloves), a white wig, and loads of gunked on makeup. Which reminds me of the old grandmother I’d see on Madison at 28th Street a few years back who’s makeup made her look like an overdone kewpie doll. What I’m trying to say is that no matter how much, or how little, one blends in their makeup, when you’re in New York you will always be able to blend in………………or at least not stand out as much as you would somewhere else.