One of the best reasons to move from New York City to Mexico City — besides the constant and resplendent sunshine — is the vast improvement in cost of living. We can afford a much bigger apartment (or a house, had we preferred to rent one) in a much better neighborhood (La Condesa). Lord knows I loved you, Astoria, but 31st Drive and Broadway was not exactly a hub of culture/activity/hipness, unless you’re really into car repair shops and White Castle. La Condesa, meanwhile, is.
Where activities are ample, so are the people. Meaning, this is a place where people come to see and be seen. In droves. On the weekends, the parks fill up with families, vendors and music. During the weekdays, tourists and working stiffs dominate the scene. OK, fine, I can handle all that, in fact, I embrace it. It’s fun. But when you add in the other layer of people — mysterious, well-dressed people who don’t appear to be working nor visiting the city for the first time, but instead seem to have countless hours to spend in cafes, or driving their SUVs up and down the streets, or chatting on their cellphones while walking in slow, meandering zigzags on the sidewalks — it can get a tad annoying. Especially all their leather, shiny jewelry and bad perfume. Ah, the super rich. You’re like the Borg, but in Gucci.
Yes, NYC was stuffed to the gills with these types, too, but because I lived far, far away from them, I didn’t have to roll my eyes constantly. Only sometimes, like when I saw the really ancient Upper East Side ladies wearing their giant fur coats and huge sunglasses. Or the girls in Chelsea with stringy hair, jutting clavicles, enormous purses and tank tops that cost $250. *eyes rolling*
Here, well, I can’t so easily escape the super-rich. We hang out and live in the same places. Hence this email I just fired off to my husband:
i went to the organic cafe and got a chicken sandwich to go. it was really crowded — and full of obnoxious rich types. who wears leather all day like that? weirdos. my favorite was the anorexic pregnant woman dressed in head-to-toe skintight black clothing, super high heels (leather, of course) and slicked back hair in a ponytail.
But, looking back, well, I have to admit: I was paying too much for a chicken sandwich. I also desperately wanted to splurge on some organic soaps and lotions. And I had just dropped off my shih-tzu at the groomer’s. Am I only one leather jacket and a pair of high heel boots away from becoming El Borg? ¿Como se dice “Resistance is futile?”