Sometimes it's easy (and I suspect very dangerous as well) to imagine that one is in fact a time traveller or an alien anthropologist or a something that has somehow been swallowed up in the business of day-to-day living here and lost track of the actual job.

There are some very fine stories on this premise, I believe.

Well, if he were to be horrified by you it would be his loss.

Hah. Thank you. But have you read Lovecraft's letters? I can understand having a panic attack in Brooklyn if you're used to living in solitude in Providence, but the proximity of dark-eyed people from different countries is not legitimate reason to hate a city.