By Emily Rice
New York is heaven on earth. Covered in lights, tall buildings that brush the sky with their spires, diverse culture and people bustling around on the streets day to day. It’s nothing like home, I’m a city-girl at heart, always have and always will be. I’m amazed by this concrete jungle and I haven’t even seen a fragment of it’s beauty. Today is going to be my busiest day here, I have a packed full schedule with different sites to visit including the renowned Times Square.
The sun is high in the sky when I finally step out of my hotel. Out on the street I can feel strangers shoulders brush mine, leaving behind tendrils of goosebumps on my skin. The heat from the sun beats down on the patches of skin left exposed by my clothes that hardly cover me from the harsh weather. Acutely aware of the close proximity of those neighbouring me on the sidewalk, I pull my bag in front of me to keep an eye on it.
My eyes flit back and forth on the street looking for a cab to flag down. I can hardly see the yellow automobiles fly past on the street over the suited shoulders lining the edge of the sidewalk in front of me. Without any other options I position my bag in front of me and use it as a shield to barge through the suits acting as a blockade.
Now that I finally have a view of the street I wave my hands as vigorously as I possibly can. A cab immediately pulls up to a stop in front of me and I hop in, palms sweaty. The driver is a large man that took up almost the entirety of the front of the car. He somehow twisted his massive frame all the way around to make eye contact with me as he spoke. “Address?” His voice wasn’t nearly as grisly as his appearance.
“Times Square please.” I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face when speaking those words. I’m trying to take in as much as humanly possible on the journey, allowing my gaze to swivel from one window to the next. It’s impossible to see everything, even the locals don’t see every beauty New York has to offer.
The ride was amazing passing by all of the different buildings, business offices and apartment buildings. Getting to see all the different people was even more magical, getting to observe their interactions, each unique to the previous one. But the destination was indescribable. I paid the driver and climbed out of the car, all while floating on a cloud of euphoria.
I spread my arms out, basking in the electronic light that envelopes me and the entire square like a blanket. The billboards light up my face along with the smile that’s practically splitting it in half. I can feel the world melt away around me, leaving only me and the beautiful, bright screen. Something changed, something miniscule that I can’t quite put my finger on. The outside world came rushing back in. Everything's the same though, I turn around, then I turn again, looking for what has broken me from my deep trance. Then I notice something, the ads on the billboards, they’re changing. I watched as one ad changed to another. They didn’t change very fast though, just one at a time, very slowly. Eventually it changed back to the advertisement it had originally started on.
I stop my movements while my mind continues racing, time seems to slow down around me. I looked around at the people, some doing the same as me, ogling the screens, and some simply living life. That’s when I realize what I’ve been staring at, ads. All of these ads and all of these people, customers for the corporations without even going to the mall. I’m included in these customers, consuming this information without thought, without hesitation.
All of these people that travel through the square, stare at these ads, all day, every day. Me, and all of these other tourists come here as if it’s an attraction, come to stare at advertisements in awe. I can count ten ads from where I’m standing right now. I willingly came here, to stare at advertising. I’m willingly letting this marketing infiltrate my mind and am taking in the information, just to stare at some lights.
To think that these people around me use this street for regular traffic, not knowing that they’re constantly taking in this information that’s shaping their views. It’s like they’re zombies, the locals walking along without acknowledging it, and the tourists smiling and taking pictures like it’s something to appreciate. Everyone trapped in a cycle of ubiquitous assimilation of information, constantly taking in the information surrounding them. Constantly being told to buy this or that product or to look like this or that model. Having the advertisements shaping their ideals to what suits the corporations.