Boulevard Of Broken Dreams, NYC.1
I call the area around Port Authority, Boulevard Of Broken Dreams. Actually the boulevard literally starts at 30th and 8th ends around 52th, but around the bus terminal is especially seedy and gross. It looks like the shuttle from the Island of Dr. Moreau just let out passengers. I swear, people from all of over America board Greyhound buses with champagne wishes and caviar dreams and get off at 42nd street and all of their hopes dissipate. Some people don’t even leave the area. Runaways, dopefiends and prostitutes, oh my. It’s sad in an I’m-glad-I-was-born-here kind of way, because this city WILL eat you up and not spit you out.