Walking through Williamsburg in the evening makes me feel old and poor and ugly and under accessorized and over employed. People laze about in McCarren park with their significant others as if their laundry does itself and their scalps leak hair gel so they never have to worry about a strong wind disrupting their flawless neo-fascist side part.

Ah, to be young and pale and tattoed and to have a job that has you picnicking before sunset. Objectively, I guess I'm not that far, but how do you stay so pale when you're lounging in the sun all the time?