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Some of my post-college friends have been in my life for more than 10 years. And yet, I have never seen where many of them live. In any normal town, this would be super strange. But in New York City, it feels totally acceptable.

I assume my friends live somewhere, right? They must have a place they call home. With a kitchen (or at least some of the makings of a kitchen, this is NYC we’re talking about here). And a bed? Or a couch? Who knows? Not me — because, again, I’ve never been over.

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