Wonder Wheels, Sweaty Subways, and AC Drops in your Charcoal Ice Cream: The ULTIMATE New York Summer Bucket List
1. Visit the Chinese Scholar’s Garden in Staten Island- it has eight pavilions, a bamboo forest, waterfalls, a koi-filled pond, Chinese calligraphy, and many Ghongshi scholar’s rocks. Or, for those outside the city of cheap pizza and expensive coffee, visit any unique garden around you. Whether you go to meditate, to beg your friends to take photos of you pretending to meditate, to smoke weed, to paint with watercolours, or to torture a friend with allergies, it’ll be a great day.
2. Let a night lead you to a rooftop bar adorned with those aesthetically pleasing, hanging chains of small lights. Get into a slightly tipsy, yet surprisingly heated debate about whether these are called “Christmas Lights,” “String Lights,” “Barn Lights,” or “Fairy Lights.” Either way, proceed to drunkenly buy a hundred yards of them on Amazon and dream up great schemes of turning your apartment into whatever happens when Pinterest and Hygge have a steamy summer romance. Savor the moment when you’re asked to sign for twelve boxes of wire-and-bulb wonderland when you’re in a hurry to leave for work.
3. Put the legitimacy with which you exclaim “As easy as riding a bike” to the test and, wait for it, actually go ride a bike. Ride leisurely down the Hudson River Bank, set out in Central Park a few minutes before you realize you don’t remember how brakes work, or zip down a designated-bike-lane, mowing over our faithful pizza delivery men. Enjoy the breeze blowing your hair, or radically reconsider your cliches of choice.
4. Forever make fun of your friend who lives in Staten Island, but concede to pay their distant land a visit - lighthouse museums clearly sound wildly exciting. Get on the Staten Island Ferry. Proceed to fall in love with said ferry because not only is it orange and adorable, but it has wifi - and I’m feeling a connection.
5. Watch the fireworks display at Coney Island, or anywhere where they’re really magical. Spend the entirety of the display debating whether you’re better off lifting your phone and watching the flying lights on a three inch screen while recording low-quality useless video, or the alternative option, in which you ACTUALLY watch the fireworks, which then cease to exist because image-capture is now a requisite for reality.
6. Get stuck on a horrifically delayed train and loudly say a Very Bad Word. Something that would make your Grandmother Very Sad. Think of Grandma, with a disapproving, disappointed face, sighing, shaking her head. Resolve to call Grandma.
7. Actually call your Grandma. Talk about something besides the weather.
8. Buy a Cute Small Summer Daybag. Probably something stylish - in a bright colour, with a unique shape, and a fairly inconveniently placed strap. Transfer your belongings to this bag, and spend a few days raving to all of your friends about how nice it is to carry less. Proceed to realize that the things you need don’t actually fit in said Cute Bag, and begin carrying around an additional smaller bag to house the rest. Remain in absolute and utter denial that anything illogical is going on, and continue to tout yourself as a lover of few things and small purses- it’s all in the name of sacrificing for fashion.
9. Just once, concede, and let your one Happy, Holistic, Healthy, Hippie friend drag you to cold-pressed-juice-bar hopping. On a Friday night. Without pulling out your phone and scrolling through Tinder. Yes - I’m serious. If it makes you feel any better, you can still pretend to be hungover in the morning. They’ll probably offer you a Bloody Mary with freaking Spirulina anyway.
10. Go kayaking! No, that life vest doesn’t make you look fat. Feel free to feel more relieved than you’re proud of if you and your phone survive the adventure fully ‘Grammed and Not At the Bottom of The Hudson River, the latter being a final destination you might want to consider avoiding: you might come out of it with a charming greenish glow, maybe an ability to sprout a third arm. Your phone will be stuck at the bottom, trying to make fish buddies with no chance of restoring a connection.
11. Have the tune of your local ice cream truck get hopelessly stuck in your head in the middle of a Serious Meeting.
12. Ride the Wonder Wheel in Coney Island, (or any ferris wheel, really.) Maybe sneak in some champagne in a travel coffee mug (I swear, it’s infinitely more fun this way.) Enjoy the magic of the view from above. Try to rise and see something else in your life with a new perspective, from above.
13. Spend an entire day walking around the city in flip flops. Remaining in a blissful state of denial, refuse to look at the soot-like colour of the soles of your feet when you get home.
14. Have a picnic in a park, with a proper basket, blanket, and everything. As you approach the chosen location of your al fresco affair, savor every moment of feeling like one of THOSE mystical people who actually does the things we all tell ourselves we do “all the time” in the summer. You might be toting a bottle of vodka, two plastic forks, and six bags of sour gummy worms, but you sure look worthy of the cover of Country Life magazine.
15. Complain about the stuffiness of an unairconditioned subway station.
16. Demonstratively fan yourself with any piece of paper you’re holding, clearly expressing your dissatisfaction with your $2.75 experience.
17. Stop. Lower the paper.
18. Look around for a few seconds, somehow expecting something to change.
19. Lift the paper back up.
20. Restore the grouchy expression. Resume the aggressively fanning yourself and expecting some celestial sign of sympathy - that the universe pities your public transportation woes.
21. Go rowing in Central Park. Accept in full that it’s ridiculously fun to be a tourist in your own city. If you’re really feeling adventurous, consider grappling with the reality that most of the fun activities you someday deemed “probably hard to arrange” are almost guilt-inducingly easy to do.
22. Go “Glamping” on Governor’s Island. Or anywhere that allows it. Or, pitch a tent in your living room, put on the 4 Hour Youtube Fireplace on your TV, and take a moment to make yourself a nice drink before consuming an entire bag of marshmallows. Hate yourself for using the term “Glamping.” Bask in the appreciation of the presence of a modern bathroom and the absence of the bloodthirsty bastards that we call mosquitoes.
23. Watch an outdoor movie, either on a lawn, or in a drive-in movie theatre. Feel free to engage in the iconic experiences of fully ignoring the movie while being...otherwise occupied, wondering why on earth you paid money for the inconvenience of watching a film on a faraway screen through your windshield, or furiously slapping at various grass-dwelling creatures every few seconds.
24. Peel your (extremely attractively, I swear) sweaty thighs off a chair and tell yourself that summer truly is a magical time of the year.
25. Make your annual, varying-levels-of-enthusiastic, attempt to get tickets to Shakespeare at The Park, or any other coveted summertime event. This encompasses a wonderful range - anything from waiting in line, in the heat, for 7 hours to, once again, vaguely drawling out “Oh, yeah, I’m totally going to go sometime. Culture, you know.”
26. Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, or through your favourite magical place, at twilight or at sunrise.
27. Go to a nostalgia shop and purchase some glorious piece of junk that we both know you don’t need, but that makes you happy in some mysterious way. Be it a rusty 40-year-old road sign, an old soda bottle that seems scarily miniscule, or a lamp shaped like a leg in a fishnet stocking, enjoy a solid fifteen minutes of wondering what stuff from your current apartment will end up in such a place one day.
28. Go to a farmers market, and enthusiastically buy the equivalent of a week’s grocery budget in “Farm Fresh Produce.” Consume three boxes of berries before you even get home, put the vegetables you don’t know the names of in your crisper drawer, telling yourself you’re going to make an amazing, colourful dinner with them. Let them wrinkle, realize you have no idea what to do with them, and, admitting defeat, sadly get rid of them when one of them gets fuzzy.
29. Go to a concert, sing louder than you ever can in your paper-thin-walled apartment, and lose your voice entirely.
30. Go gallery hopping. If you know about art - enjoy every minute of it and pester all of your comrades by diligently reading every label and artist’s description. If you don’t know about art, indulge fully in pretending to be a world-class expert. With modern art, rattling off a deep quasi-Freudian saga of immense internal struggles passes with flying colours surprisingly often.
31. Spend at least an hour waiting to purchase whatever the most in-demand trendy food item is at the moment. Fully acknowledge, as early as possible, that this is in no way an efficient use of time, money, or swarms-of-people-tolerance, and wait it out anyway. Pride yourself on your self discipline, and later on your artistic eye, as you spend fifteen minutes hovering above a blue sandwich with your phone.
32. Travel outside of your home city, and find a place that serves your home city’s famed delicacy. Indulge in a majestic complaint-fest with your friends about how horrific and utterly wrong in every way, shape, smell, and form said food item is a mere 20 miles away from your apartment. Great boost to your self confidence.
33. The fact that “Beach Read” exists as a genre of books - and the fact that books we enjoy on beaches have been devalued to low-life tales of gossip, cattiness, and going gaga over tall handsome gentlemen - is somehow offensive to beaches, books, and fictional mysteriously-omniscient secretaries everywhere. I’ve got no interest in tearing anyone away from their deep dive into a starry-eyed affair that started in a Starbucks. I’m simply suggesting - choose one book by someone or about something that you disagree with down to your very core. Yeah, that much. And read it. Maybe on a beach. Maybe on a bench or on a mountain, boat, or twin bed with unwashed sheets. I would not, could not ask you to do anything more to than consider it.
34. Pot is great. Do pot! Err, make pot! This isn’t getting much better. Hey Mom! So, Pots are great. Make pots! Take a pottery class! Whether it’s to indulge your inner messy-craft-lover, settle some long-standing fantasy debt about ghosts REALLY into ceramics, or to confirm that you, too, couldn’t think of a better alibi for a non-greek boyfriend, spend a few hours getting completely covered in clay and enjoy every minute of it.
35. Put together a REALLY stylish all-white outfit. One that makes you want to walk down the street like it’s a runway, blazing over tourists taking pictures of pigeons left and right. One that makes you feel more confident than a middle schooler who’s smoked weed once talking to a kid who’s about to try it for the first time. You know, what we can all agree no-one should ever call “on fleek.” And… don’t wear it. Until the day after Labour Day. Be a badass.. With an ass that looks great in those white capris.
36. Crack open a fire hydrant! Let your conscience melt away into some drain and let’s let pure joy cross our faces as we to waste 1,800 gallons of potable drinking water a minute while simultaneously lowering the water pressure for surrounding buildings. It’s hot out. And you suddenly get to splash around joyfully with the neighbour who cursed you out for playing Bohemian Rhapsody at 3 AM again. I’m sorry, but it’s way too much fun.
37. Have an enthusiastic conversation with your friends in which you plan to attend, like, a million free summer concerts. Attend one free summer concert, by a band you’re pretending to have heard of. Regardless, spend the entirety of said concert eating through a month’s worth of data and treating every person who follows you online to twenty minutes of poorly-lit shaky live video updates that we both know you’re never going to watch again.
38. Have a drop of mysterious-air-conditioner-liquid fall into your mouth just as as you’re yawning on the sidewalk. Have a Great Day.
39. Rediscover just how incredible it feels to take a sip of cold brew coffee on a hot day. With terrifying speed, in some magic of summer-induced fast-track lifestyle inflation, become more and more accepting of the astronomical price of these cool, caffeinated creations : stand back and watch as, each day, the “Oh Hell No!”s become shrugs after which you place 6 bucks and a piece of your soul on the counter and slide it over. Some of your friends may judge you, but it’s not as if beer in any establishment is any cheaper. At least we live in a world where drinkers of cold-bean-juice and probably-slightly-warm-fermented-grain-liquid can sit at a table and enjoy their poor financial choices in harmony.
40. Spot a critter of NYC’s wildlife scurrying along with a full slice of pizza in tow. Or an entire donut. Maybe even a croissant if we’re getting fancy. Take a photo and brag to all your friends that you found your own Pizza Rat. Go on and on about how this one’s even BETTER, and make any of your suburban friends roll their eyes and wonder why you’re like this.
41. Try one of those foodie-famous giant cocktails. Have the best brunch ever, and keep your cocktail comrades around to enjoy every minute of being more hungover than you ever thought you could be at 5PM.
42. Go on a hunt for the yet-to-be-spotted “Sick Passenger.” No-one has ever seen him. No-one has ever found his tracks. We all suffer in ignorance, knowing only the Sick Passenger is going to make you late today. And tomorrow. And on Tuesday. And for that hot date. Seekers of discovery- we’re counting on you.
43. Have a fabulously-clad drag queen pass you by on that ONE day when you had a rough morning and decided to venture out of the house in stretched out leggings and a shirt with a Seamless- stain on it. Shuffle aside, sigh, and look after said drag queen wistfully. Take a moment to feel surprisingly sad about where your life has come to.
44. Take a moment and conjure up the ABSOLUTE MAXIMUM amount you’d be willing to spend on a piece of avocado toast. No, like the REAL maximum amount- scroll through Pinterest first. Now, add three dollars to it. Now, go out to bunch and buy this majestic platter of pale-green goodness on a vessel of bread that’s probably sans anything that makes bread, bread. Tell your sobbing wallet to kiss your hass. And, of course, don’t take a bite until you take a picture.
45. Visit a part of the city that you always kind of thought was…water. There’s a Manhattan above Harlem, a Bronx that’s not Zoo, a Brooklyn free of six-dollar gluten-free cronuts, a Queens beyond the 7 train, and there’s a Staten Island. Explore, Dream, Discover.
46. While waiting in your sweltering apartment, most patiently, for your super to come and fix your AC, use your profusely sweaty hands to carry on multiple text message convos at once. Text your super that you don’t have any underwear on and that you wanna come to Daddy. Proceed to be promptly informed that your father cosigned your lease that that you’ll be doing just that if you don’t make your next utility payment on time.
47. Find somewhere where you can buy a Nutcracker. If you don’t know what it is, don’t google it. Down seven. You’re now eligible for the surprise free gift of a game of “Desperately Track Down How Everyone and Your Boss’s Mother Knows How You Didn’t Lose Your Virginity At That Place That Time.”
48. Buy one of those trendy aesthetically-pleasing reusable cold-beverage cups, and apparently actually use it, enjoying a season filled with ‘gram-worthy homemade smoothies, fruit-infused water, and flavoured iced lattes. OR, allow me to recruit you to explain to this girl how on earth these bloody things are so well-loved. They don’t close in any way, you can’t put them in a bag, and they’re enormous too cumbersome to tote around “just in case” the cold-beverage-craving strikes. I beg you - enlighten me.
49. Have a barbecue on one of the many grills offered by New York City’s public part! Milk every opportunity you have to roast your vegan friend like a (nicely caramelized) brussel sprout. Hide the cauliflower steaks, and when they beg for mercy, show them that you really do not carrot all.
50. Take a moment to really stop, and smell the comforting aromatic cacophony that is 3-day-old garbage, some kid’s dropped Mr. Softee vanilla sundae, freshly laden asphalt three blocks away (that you’re going to step in, ) terrifyingly delicious-smelling roasted cashews, and a hint of urine. Ahhhh.
