I cried for fun at NYC’s first pop-up ‘cry spa’ — then went back to work like it never happened
NY Post
If crying were a superpower, I’d be saving the world right now.
My nickname would be “Battle Bawler,” or maybe “Honey Boohoo.” I’m a crybaby.
Not a whiner. Not a drama queen or spoiled brat. Just emotional.
I weep at weddings. My eyes water re-watching that episode of “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air,” when Will’s dad leaves him high and dry.
I fought back tears during America Ferrera’s “It’s literally impossible to be a woman” speech in the “Barbie” movie.
But when I went to Sob Parlour, a pop-up “cry spa” that recently hosted an event on West 71st Street — nada. No tears, no tissues needed, nothing.
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