Look, the wave is ambiguous on purpose. Is it hello? Is it goodbye? Ask anyone who has ever stood on a Manhattan sidewalk in February with a $4,200 studio, a MetroCard that won't swipe, and a rat dragging a slice down the stairs like he pays the mortgage. That wave is doing a lot of heavy lifting.
Maybe you're waving hi to bodega bacon egg and cheese, Sunday scaries at the bar because the Jets found a brand new way to lose, and pizza you can fold like a legal document. Maybe you're waving bye because you finally did the math on winter and Florida exists. Either way, New York gets the hand, and New York knows exactly what you mean by it.
Cut from soft, broken in fabric that feels like it already survived three winters and a Knicks playoff run. Stitching that holds up to laundry day, subway sprints, and whatever you spilled on it at 2am.
