Having recapped on the entirety of my 4-day stay, allow me to provide some clarification on the "Never Again, New York" title with the following breakdown.

​1) Cleanliness

New York will remembered as the North American city with unrivalled griminess. Streets were filthy. General practices were disgusting.
Regardless of whether we found ourselves in Brooklyn or Manhattan, the same situation prevailed.

• Rats were apparently spotted on our first night in Brooklyn.
• Access/egress paths to subway stations possessed rusted gates and the undeniable whiff of urine.
• Concrete blocks bearing an immeasurable count of black blobs were found around heavily populated districts in Brooklyn. The same was seen in less commercialized neighbourhoods in Manhattan.
• Streetside "patios" in SoHo were directly exposed to the fumes of sewer systems, regardless of whether they were located nearby or not. The stench travelled.

Many food establishments featured an odd-looking grate outside their entrance. This wasn't a method of drainage though; rather, it was the entranceway to an underground cellar for storage. Puddles would be occasionally located around these grates, or just randomly on sidewalk patches, even if precipitation hadn't occurred in the past few days. Such scummy ponds had originated from vile bags of garbage whose fluids had failed to drain into the sewer style. Nasty.

2) Weather Conditions

New York weather didn't differ too greatly from Toronto: the vibe was the same, hence an absence of a sense of travelling somewhere "new and exciting".
With the added factor of smog and pollution, the humid air quickly became repulsive to be immersed in.
Even upon returning to a destination equipped with sufficient ventilation and air conditioning, the unbearable feelings of stickiness remained. Vivid in my memory is showering twice every night to rid myself of the vile New York air. I wasn't successful, and my complexion and overall well-being suffered severely.

​3) Public Bathrooms
​
Appending to the theme of gross, unsanitary conditions witnessed throughout the city, public bathrooms are definitely not exempted. While expectations for restaurant bathrooms had already plummeted beyond normal levels of comprehension, it was shocking to discover that the facilities found in hotel lobbies were of a similar status.
Cleaning staff hardly fulfilled their responsibilities; a member of janitorial staff at the Hilton at 53rd St and 6th Ave was observed to shift all of her weight onto a mop before lazily shoving the tool into a closed stall, then retrieving it. This pattern continued for a few more stalls before a sigh of exhaustion escaped her and she, and the mop, trailed out of the bathroom in a slug-like fashion.

​On this topic, I cannot forego the mention of toilet paper quality. Thin and rough sheets reminscient of crude sandpaper were placed in every single establishment visited, including hotel lobbies and guest rooms. The city seemed unwilling to spare customers the pain of low-quality toilet paper and reluctantly exfoliated bottoms.

Water pressure was also insufficient in older neighbourhoods, meaning that trickling streams and/or rapidly cooling faucets were frequent.

Hand soaps were utterly unacceptable: with a strength on par with corrosive cleaning agents, the detergents installed in public bathrooms were anything but epidermis-friendly. In under 24 hours, the surrounding edges of my fingertips began to shrivel and peel, resulting in a week's worth of excruciating pain. Hand-washing frequency hadn't increased on the trip - shockingly enough - and neither did the intervals at which moisturizing lotion was applied. It wasn't me; it was the soap.

Number locks were also seen on almost every public bathroom. Whether it was to discourage the use of customer restrooms as public washrooms or keep in line with the nationwide concept of consumerism, it was an unnecessary add-on in districts where homeless residents were minimal.

Read Part 1 HERE !

​There was a distinct reason behind our purchase of a single drink at Nohohon. It was in preparation for a (much warranted) pre-flight Boba Guys run.

Bidding farewell to St. Marks, the path was retraced back to 8th and Broadway. During this Vitamin D-filled walk, I came across my first ever K-Mart. In my head, it was the American equivalent of our H Mart - a Korean superstore that offered clothing items in addition to foodstuff. Various times had it been mentioned in Fresh Off The Boat, further contributing to my curiosity. That said, one could imagine my response at discovering its status as an outdated Sears/Zellers. Sigh.

I had difficulties pinpointing Boba Guys' Waverly Place location at first. The neighbourhood appeared commercialized, with large, flat tiles (and zero trip hazards) to prove it.

​The Canal Street Market location had been empty at our time of visit, but this one featured a winding line up that curved outside of the store's air-conditioned quarters and onto the dominion of NYU (New York University).

We joined the lineup of bubble tea - or should I say boba? - enthusiasts, praying that the wait would not hinder our late packing plans. Majority, if not all, of the surrounding citizens hailed from a similar demographic group: mid-20s, dark hair, and Asian descent. For a moment, it felt like I was in LA again.

​The lined moved at a snail-like pace, approximating 10-15 minutes to reach the order counter. 

Another five minutes or so passed before drink orders could be retrieved.
In retrospect, the crafting of drinks was probably the swiftest process amongst them all. What hindered the smooth flow of traffic were indecisive customers that struggled to arrive at decisions howbeit the cashier's knowledgeable suggestions.

I'm ready. I'm ready to go home.

By the fourth and final day of our stay had rolled around, my mind and body had detached from the city without reservation. For the sake of my hygienic sanity, it was imperative to abandon the place whose air felt filthier than a jog in 37-degreee weather.

Alas, we would not be boarding until the early evening. A half-day's worth of possibilities lay before us.

I opted to venture to Manhattan once again, for my main duties in Brooklyn had been accomplished.

Multiple neighbourhoods had been covered by this point: from Midtown to Koreatown to Lower Manhattan, all major streets along the subway lines had been visited and documented. What remained on my dwindling destination map was St. Marks in East Village - a quiet strip filled with eateries, and some queer shops in between.

The main focus of this extension was locating Nohohon's New York location - more precisely, Nohohon's sole operating location in North America.

As bubble tea could not be adopted as a meal, we hunted for lunch first. Ramen Setagaya won over its competitors with an appealing menu and sleek storefront.

​Sporting an all-black uniform and visible layer of cosmetics, the waitress/hostess welcomed us with a smile (and slightly judging gaze). Menus were provided immediately after we seated ourselves onto two of the many stools.

< Pictured above and below: Asahi, Deluxe Shoyu Ramen, Mazemen >

​An ongoing three-dollar beer special was being promoted via banners along the exposed concrete-esque walls. This was taken advantage of first before reverting back to menu options.

Read Part 2 HERE !

The Ippodo ordeal had worn us out a bit, so by the time we had made our way back to the busy intersection 34th and 6th, I was more than ready to relieve myself of my growing backpack and bags of purchases.
The immediate area revealed a terrible shortage of cafés (and benches for that matter), so we reverted back to Koreatown in hopes of finding a spot equipped with washroom facilities, air conditioning, outlets, and perhaps reasonably priced sustenance.

A lovely potato had warned against Caffe Bene, while Tous Les Jours simply did not appeal to me. Paris Baguette it was.

Lining the shelves was a distinct variety of breads, rolls, and cakes; between these shelves, a checkout line began to form slowly. The bakery/café possessed two of the factors I had hoped for: A/C and a customer bathroom. Other than that, seating was minimal and cramped, and there were no smartphone-friendly elements in sight. Breads and cakes were undeniably on the pricey side as well.

The concept of waiter service did not apply here, for the tables were sticky and dirty. Shop attendants emptied garbage bins from time to time, however no efforts were made to ensure a bright, orderly dining area for customers. A sheer lack of a janitorial team was observed via the status of the unisex bathroom stall. Put simply, it was appalling. From the sticky floor to the disgusting toilet seat to the dangling soap dispenser, it was a germaphobe's worst nightmare. The cherry on top was a dysfunctional simplehuman garbage bin that could only be opened manually - GROSS.

​I wasn't all too sure about Paris Baguette's ordering process, but the cashier did not prove to be any use in that regard. A pre-packaged Japanese cheesecake had rested on my tray for the entire ten-minute checkout period, and I merely wanted a Green Tea Chiffon Cake from the display case to munch on in-store. The girls in front of me simply grabbed a slice of cake without any issues, yet my attempt was met with a jarring warning and utterly distasteful expression. Mild reprimands fell upon these girls later, but this was no excuse to treat a paying customer poorly.

The Green Tea Chiffon was alright, though the whipping cream was a tad stifling after a while. No drinks were purchased during our stay, though two small items were consumed by my dining parter towards the end of our chatty stay.

​We wandered back onto 32nd St as the sky transitioned to a cool blue. A quick round of browsing in a mask-centred beauty shop and we were off to find dinner.

​Xi'An Foods was a recommendation from an Instagram user who had previously resided in New York for some time. Rarely is it that I go out of my way for Chinese food, so I retained the optimism that it would be unlike the others. Prior research had shown the name to be relatively successful, with several locations inaugurated throughout Manhattan and Brooklyn.

The restaurant offered fast, casual northern Chinese cuisine that didn't stray far from dumplings in spicy sauce and flat noodles in broth. A menu was fixated at the entrance, just beside the cashier. Refrigerated drinks, condiment stands, and seating were located towards the back. Additional seating was found on the second floor.

As first-timers, recommendations definitely assisted us in the decision-making process. The two employees behind the cashier took their time in explaining some of their most renowned picks, eventually steering us in the direction of a Stewed Oxtail Noodles in Soup and Spicy & Sour Spinach Dumpling.

​< Pictured above and below: NS10 Stewed Oxtail Noodles in Soup, F6 Spicy & Sour Spinach Dumpling, Sour Hawberry Tea >

​Before I headed down to the Big Apple, I had big plans to be a big tourist during my stay. From The Statue of Liberty to Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan Bridge, there were many places I had wished to visit prior to physically finding myself in New York. Ultimately, I didn't end up going to the aforementioned places. Nor did I turn out to be as enthusiastic of a tourist as I had pictured.

​Other than Times Square, we managed to visit one more noteworthy spot during our stay: the September 11th Memorial nestled between the numbered World Trade Centers.

​We didn't bother with guided tours or museum tickets, as the point of the excursion was simply to deepen our knowledge. The area was paved nicely, with spacious spotless tiles that lay flush. Greenery was abundant and architectural wonders were recurrent.

​In place of the Twin Towers that had originally stood upright, the grounds had been remediated into two pools. They were termed the North Pool and South Pool respectively. Names of the victims of the attacks were engraved onto the border of each pool.

Outside the museum were interactive panels that allowed visitors to search up specifics of the incident, though the system was ultimately found to be faulty and unusable.
Museum access was strictly forbidden to all attendees that did not hold admission tickets - not even a peak of the interior was allowed.

View the full album HERE !

Read Part 1 HERE !

​Trekking to New York's uber-compact Koreatown was next up on the itinerary.

The route appeared a tad intimidating at first glance, primarily since we would be walking from 17th Street to 27th Street. Unlike the widely dispersed avenues of Los Angeles, these streets were nestled fairly closely together. Consequently, the walk was breezy and pretty enjoyable when in the shade.

​Broadway began to curve and intersect the adjacent 5th Ave as we inched towards Madison Square Park. Frankly speaking, the allure of positioning a large slab of greenery in the middle of a densely-populated, congested urban area is peculiar decision to me. The same goes for Central Park. In retrospect, suppose it isn't all too different from Trinity Bellwoods or Christie Pits, besides that downtown Manhattan was several notches busier than downtown Toronto on a weekday afternoon.

​Within fifteen minutes, I spotted the corner spot that was Cha Cha Matcha - the very street angle that I had seen countless times online prior to visiting.
Although pleased to successfully locate the pink and green, I was less enthusiastic about joining the winding lineup directly positioned under mid-day UV rays.

​Our stay was short, and for a good reason. The average wait time was 7-10 minutes, while placing an order required an additional five due to their cashless payment system. Had this been back home, I wouldn't have minded in the slightest, but I wasn't about to succumb to whopping fees on my statement.

​The fixed menu comprised of a decent selection. Economic, though, it was not. Far pricier than any other establishment I've stepped foot in, it truly made question whether their nowhere worth their value. Their most popular rainbow-toned Divine Drink was a ridiculous eight dollars (USD!) due to "algae-derived benefits, but even their standard offerings were up of four dollars. Vegan "energy bites" were positioned near the cashier, further confirming its overpriced, neighbourhood hipster status.

​More than that, the establishment lacked the poise of authentic Japanese tea rooms.

Cha Cha Matcha's decor was outwardly gaudy to an excessive degree. Sure, the bubble-gum pink and luscious green was a fun, electrifying combination, but the tones grew overwhelming when used in abundance. In general, the interior seemed too over-the-top; there were far too many elements interfering with each other's impact of aesthetic radius, and the hot pink equipment was constantly observed in a dirty, half-cleaned-up state. This led the experience to be less tranquil than it could have been. 

Read Part 1 HERE !

​Slowly but surely, we triumphantly arrived at New York's quintessential tourist spot - Times Square.

​The distinct difference between Brooklyn's gross, unsanitary conditions and Manhattan's metropolitan vibe was truly visible here. Even negating the fact that the area surrounding Times Square station was very much a popular downtown destination, it was cleaner than Brooklyn by far.
It should be noted, though, that public bathrooms were revolting regardless of neighbourhood. Yes, even hotel bathrooms in Financial District were incredibly disgusting.

​Tourists flooded the vicinity, reiterating the attraction's global status. Yellow taxis and exposed double-decker tour buses were prominent sightings, as were street entertainers clad in pop culture costumes. Random souvenirs were everywhere - unsurprising yet more vigorous a presentation than I was prepared.

​I have always wished to spend a short while leisurely visiting the acclaimed Times Square, but reality was less enjoyable than imagined. Fumes were excessive and feelings of claustrophobia were particularly high.

​My eyes darted left and right in search for two things: the flagship LINE Friends store and GOT7's "Look" performance playing on the LED (LCD?) screen immediately above.

​To be frank, locating the shop wasn't difficult at all; it was the path from the subway to its storefront that proved exhaustive.

​The LINE Friends store was an exciting establishment, for it carried everything from monogrammed ceramic mugs to cushions to plushies. A colossal Brown welcomed incoming patrons from the very second they stepped foot within the store.

​While there was a substantial variety of items in the United States' only LINE store, I couldn't help but express disappointment to some aspects. Plushie styles were extremely minimal, varying only between a variation sporting a New York hoodie and another that was completely unclothed. Brown and Cony were carried in three sizes: Small, Medium, Large; James, Sally, and Leonard plushies were nowhere to be seen.

​Another factor was the lack of practicality in the items being retailed. Plushie headbands could possibly be recycled for concert attendance, small blankets could be carried aboard planes during nap time, and silicon coasters could be distributed along the dinner table when feasting occurs. But products such as mini notebooks, figurines, and small packs of sticky notes could not be justified due to their impractical (or I suppose, less practical) nature.

​With the LINE Friends and BTS collaboration, the New York outpost saw an extravagant number of BT21 products (with limitations on the number of items that could be purchased). T-shirts, hair accessories, and stationery were amongst the selection.

Few picks from the Jungle Brown series were located: small/medium Dino Brown plushies were no longer stacked on the shelves. Other skins (Penguin, Pig, etc.) were also gradually dwindling away.

View the full album HERE !

The next day, not so bright and early, we set out to explore Manhattan.

orangecane had suggested popping by Canal Street Market, which was supposedly a collection of popular eatery stalls. Boba Guys had made it onto this list, so I was more than motivated to make the trip.

​Little did I know the neighbourhood wasn't too far from Chinatown either, so we ended up chancing upon several Chinese characters and unintentionally eavesdropping on conversations taking place in dialects that were all too familiar.

​I had my initial doubts about Canal Street Market, fearing that it would bear a high degree of resemblance to the loud, rambunctious scene of St. Lawrence back home, or the fume-filled frenzy of Grand Central Market in DTLA. But the indoor establishment for dining and retail was more than gratifying as per my expectations.

​Possessing a designated divide of two components, half of the space was allocated towards a pop-like venture for commercial goods hailing from independent designers/businesses, while the other half assumed an upscale food court-style layout not dissimilar to Assembly Chef's Hall.

​We toured the shops moiety briefly, then made a sharp turn into the side offering sustenance. Noon had passed, yet the first meal of the day had yet to be consumed.
The layout of the vendors was quite systematic - each possessing their own unique storefront (or I suppose a "stall-front"?) with a menu made clearly visible from the main pathway. While the number of vendors was less than Assembly Chef's Hall, it did not appear as if the selection was lacking in any way. Rather, I deduced more distinct features, as well as a greater sense of cohesiveness overall.

​Concerts tend to stress me out profusely.
​
On a general note, the more invested – financially, physically, and emotionally – one is, the more frequently one tends to think about another being or relationship. GOT7 is on my mind every single day, which means I can’t escape massive bursts of anxiety and anticipation when fanmeets and concerts roll around.

​The first North American stop of the Eyes On You World Tour had been held in Toronto. Precisely one week later, the boys would be performing at Barclays Center and taking a revolutionary step as the first K-Pop group to ever headline the arena.

​My day commenced early in the morning. I had an international flight to catch to New York.
​
Despite having visited Seattle a handful of times, I had never once been to the Big Apple. It had always been tucked at the back of an etiolated wanderlust list, but little consideration had been given to the prospect.

The very reason behind my embarkment on this journey was none other than the New York stop of the Eyes On You World Tour. Courtesy of a certain potato, I had managed to obtain a very rare P1 spot – complete with Hi-Touch benefit and my preferred side of the stage! She’s a wonderful potato, and it’s truly a blessing to have met such a kind being by coincidence. (In a way, I like to assume these meetings are fated.)

​International flights are despicable for several reasons: heightened security, long wait times, and customs procedures. While I despise having to remove my shoes in a public environment and lay my clean electronic equipment in grimy plastic bins, I couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at walking through the same gate that GOT7 had departed from seven days prior.

We arrived without delays, thankfully, and gradually made our way to the Baggage Claim area. Like LA, it was situated in close proximity to the exit – undoubtedly alarming and not quite necessary in my opinion. LaGuardia featured an abundance of signage for taxis and rideshare services but failed to maintain even the smallest display for luggage belts. There had even been signage for the airport’s dysfunctional Wi-Fi network.

A few of us took to acquiring details from airport staff, who pointed to one of the belts ever so matter-of-fact-ly. “There’s only one for this airline.” She lazily responded, mid-gesture.
​
But how were travellers supposed to know that?

​Luggage carts were no longer complimentary like back home, so we just took to rolling our luggage along the length of LGA’s exterior until finally reaching the taxi booth.

Oh the yellow taxis! It was high time I laid eyes on the real-life version after reading countless stories of the cabs in my childhood.

​Our first step after settling in Brooklyn was to obtain a MetroCard.
​
Barclays Center was a sixteen-minute walk from our place of stay, or a two-stop subway journey totalling a maximum of twelve minutes. A trek in thirty-plus degree weather with heavy bags in tow was not an appealing idea, especially considering our degree of (un)familiarity with the neighbourhood.

​Transit cards would, thankfully, be obtained at all subway stations, unlike LA where only designated stops made vending machines available. Kiosks with attendants only accepted cash, while machines were open to debit, credit, or cash.

The MetroCards themselves were flimsy, thin cards bearing a magnetic strip and no user ID. In terms of portability, they were more convenient to store and whip out in times of urgency. On the flip side, their utter lack of thickness increased susceptibility to misplacement during commuting. The card failed to fit snugly in my generic passholder, and even slipped out once. This issue had not been witnessed with PRESTO, Compass Card, or the LA Metro Card. I was also not very fond of turnstiles refusing entry with MetroCard swipes that were “faster” or “slower” than the anticipated swipe times, nor the inability to check card balances through an online account. Put simply, MetroCards were merely for relinquishing funds for fares without any sort of association with the user. There was no registration process required.

At the same time, it meant that there was no possible way to access a transaction log, even if one feels as if he or she has been wrongly double-charged for fares. Balance checkers make occasional appearances in subway stations, allowing riders to verify the pre-loaded amount, and top up on funds if required to do so. The system is far from sophisticated, but it is functional and accurate – a grand step from public transit in Los Angeles.

​Heading to Barclays then back seemed too extravagant of a mission for a two-hour window, so we stuck to touring the nearby streets of Brooklyn in search of sustenance and something of interest – anything that didn’t fall under the category of discount clothing retailers.
​
Wandering along Dekalb, we found LIU (also known as Long Island University) and, shortly afterwards, a small eatery by the name of Chau Down. The menu appeared simple enough: build-your-own donburi bowls and “Asian” burritos.

​We waltzed inside to lay eyes on a tiny seating area, cashier, and dingy kitchen area – all encased between three red walls and street-facing glass window panes.

The restaurant enforced a 15-minute seating limit, which was odd given its availability of free Wi-Fi for customers. We placed our orders of a custom donburi and Asian burrito, then slid into the high stools by the entrance.
One can imagine our surprise at plopping ourselves down in relief, only to find our bottoms promptly constrained by the wooden frame of the chair. The cushioned fabric portion had sunken in altogether, leaving nothing but a skeleton of its original form behind.

Read Part 1 HERE !

​I arrived at the venue just before 4:30 PM. By this time, the lineup for P1 entry had already commenced.

​My first order of business was to determine the location of fansites. Having reserved the PPP Cheering Set from spinoff, it was my duty to obtain and pay for the set before they packed up to enter the venue themselves.

Spinoff wasn’t the nicest person to interact with at first glance, but the transaction went smoothly, even though I did not bring exact change ($18 USD – sans EMS fees!!)

​What followed was a seemingly endless wait to enter the internal quarters of the venue. SubK staff checked and scanned tickets during this time; a green wristband was given to us as well.

​The security check also went smoothly, and most of us had filed into a sectioned gym area by 5:30 PM. I had made an earnest request to excuse myself in search of a bathroom once I had made it inside. By doing this, I had lost my original spot in the first half of the crowd and fell to the final third of attendees. Whether this change in order had altered my experience cannot be ascertained.

​Hi-Touch commenced at roughly 6:10 PM as opposed to the scheduled 6:00 PM. The line began to shift forward gradually, and soon enough, it was my turn.
As with all Hi-Touches, I had come prepared. My legs were feeling feeble as our row stepped up. My heart swelled with nervous excitement and anticipation.
Like always, the anxiety disappeared the minute I began moving towards the boys. It was like seeing old friends – you know, the kind you always miss.

​The order was: Yugyeom, BamBam, Jinyoung, JB, Mark, Youngjae, Jackson

My biggest fear was the SubK would rush the hi-touch participants, and this was exactly the situation that took place. The entire scene appeared hurried for no reason whatsoever. A combination of SubK staff and venue staff were monitoring the entire scene with the eyes of a hawk, rushing and yelling at fans to keep moving.
​
I was able to greet the first two members with the words I had planned to say to them, but majority of my memory is foggy. I don’t even remember their faces, let alone their respective reactions. 

​My personal recount is as follows:

• Yugyeom; “역시 막내 on top!” (translates to “As expected, maknae on top!”)
• BamBam; “Please never stop smiling!”
• Youngjae; “퉤영재 안녕!” (“Twe Youngjae, hello!”) I had intended to say “퉤수달 안녕!”, which was a combination of his own mispronounciation of “Choi” followed by a reference to his resemblance to otters, but did not succeed.
• Jinyoung: “Your songs give me so much strength!” was the phrase I managed to spit out in a ridiculously hurried manner. The Korean equivalent I had planned was much too long and wordy to remember, so I opted to relay my message in English in hopes that both of us could understand it in the milliseconds that I was provided. Recently, Jinyoung’s English has witnessed a stunning improvement, so I was certain that he could understand me.
• JB; A staff member had shouted at me to not grab the members’ hands, causing me to blank out on the spot instead of telling him “次のアルバムを楽しみ！”, which translates to “I’m looking forward to the next album!” in Japanese. It was an incredibly awkward moment where my concentration was broken and I merely stared at JB blankly. A total of five milliseconds passed before I could regain composure and touch his hand delicately. (ARGH!!)
• Mark; Still stunned from the backlash I received while interacting with JB, I did not have the brainpower to say anything to Mark. But, in all honesty, I didn’t know what to say to Mark anyways.
• Jackson; By the time I reached Jackson, I had recovered and was able to say, “唔好咁搏, 要休息呀!” (which translates to “Don’t stress out, (you) need to rest!” in Cantonese). Some attendees had reported Jackson looking uninterested and tired, but I was convinced that he had looked straight at me and acknowledged my words. Whether he will remember these words or not is a different story.

​It took a great deal of concentration to utter the things I had so meticulously prepared. Regrettably, my efforts were shattered when rushed and imposed upon by a loud staff member. For all I can recall, I did not even get the chance to examine Jinyoung’s facial features in our brief interaction. In the few seconds that our eyes met, I didn’t even have the opportunity to gaze into his eyes or handsome face. SubK had stripped me of my allocated Hi-Touch rights.
​
As we departed the area, staff members rushed us outside of the venue yet again without break.

​Once Hi-Touch had concluded in all its frazzled frenzy, it was time to hunt for subsistence before the three-hour show. In retrospect, I had chosen the wrong path entirely; had I been aware of the barriers arranged before the main entrance of the venue in preparation for entry of P2 to P5 ticketholders, I would have rapidly removed myself from the stampede-to-be.
​
All of a sudden, I found myself, lightstick and fanboard still in hand, being dragged into the vacuum of eager attendees.

​It wasn’t until a few minutes of armed combat (read: protecting my delicate personal belongings with elbow strength and the sheer will to survive) that my struggle ended and I emerged triumphant and intact on the other side of herd.

​Across the street was Shake Shack – one of the spots I had eagerly added to my LA to-go list a year prior, only to neglect amidst the chaos of KCON.

The tables outside were occupied, as were all the spots in the burger shack’s interior. I took a few minutes with the menu after joining the slow-moving lineup, and eventually settled on the ShackBurger and a small Iced Tea.

​As a first-time visitor, it would have been fitting to select the set of greatest popularity, namely the ShackBurger, crinkly Fries, and Concrete frozen custard shakes. However, it was in my best interest to keep my diet free from an excess of foreign materials to prevent protests from my digestive system during the upcoming show.
​
Orders were taken in a swift, no-nonsense manner: the cashier attendants were welcoming but not quite friendly in a genuine sense. Her tendencies were not rushed, though, despite the infinitely expanding crowd behind me.

A numbered buzzer was provided upon conclusion of the order. The intention was to alert customers or order completion without the need for a loud speaker/paging system.