Growing up in New York, Manhattan has always held an ineffable mystique to me; propped up by the bourgeois societals, limitless culture and a Hollywood love affair.  Coming into the “city” I would wax poetically about the grandiose air of the people and the pretense of their demeanor. Back then, when the economy was bristling with endless wealth, we romanticized the affluent in hopes that we will someday enjoy the fruits of our own labors.  We chased the reservation of the most highly touted restaurants and accepted the fate of an over judgmental waiter as he scoffed at our attire.  It was all part of the experience; a submission to abuse that made us feel ever more alive.

Times have certainly changed.  The endless luster of the Manhattanite has become pocked and pallid under a reeling economy.  The youth have seceded from the shores of the island for more practical…