Why is there always a wait at the Olive Garden in Times Square when the tourists in question are a mere cab ride from the most authentic Italian food they could eat anywhere in America?

From the most authentic Italian food they could eat anywhere in the world besides Italy?

And instead, mind-blowing enough, they choose to eat at Olive Garden. Which is sh*ttier than the Olive Gardens in their suburbs, more expensive than the better Italian food they could get in Little Italy, and probably even more packed.

Seriously, the Olive Garden in Times Square usually has a forty-minute wait, and I know. Because I’ve eaten at the Olive Garden in Times Square before. I’ve also, and I’m a little ashamed to say it, eaten at the Applebee's in Times Square. More than once.

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Why did I do this? Well, when I ate at Olive Garden my Israeli girlfriend was visiting America, and I wanted her to try it. Yes, I should’ve brought her to Little Italy.

But Olive Garden, and Chili’s, and Applebee's-- they’re all just so inextricably American. What’s the deal? When I went to Applebee's (twice), I did not have my tourist girlfriend with me. I was with my American roommate who lives in New York City too.

So why’d we do it? The simple answer is that I love Applebee's. Really, I’m a big fan of the atmosphere, the big, comfortable red seats. I love the honey boneless barbecue wings, even though they’re definitely worse in Times Square than they are at the Applebee's in the suburb of Philadelphia where I grew up.

I also love the giant portions of water, of wings, of French fries. Of course these portions are also completely American. When I spent a year in Australia, what I missed the most were those giant cups of ice water with meals.

Why do I buy wraps at 7-Eleven with relative consistency, even though I could make a better, cheaper wrap myself? Especially when I could get a better quality, less expensive, more delicious wrap at any corner store in NYC?

The easy answer is that humans love comfort. All humans gravitate toward comfort.

7-Eleven makes me feel safe because there was a 7-Eleven a few miles from the house I grew up in, and there was a 7-Eleven a few miles from my apartment on Long Island last year, and now, in NYC, there’s a 7-Eleven just a few blocks away from my apartment.

The creepy thing about yearning for all this comfort is its omnipresence, the eeriness that the interior of an Applebee's in New York City would be nearly identical to the one in Denver, which would be nearly identical to the ones in Idaho and Texas.

The weirdest thing is that the music in restaurants like Applebee's and Chilli’s and Olive Garden are controlled by satellites, so at any given moment the music playing at the Applebee's in Times Square is the same music that’s playing at an Applebee's in South Dakota.

And that’s really weird.

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I used to spend every summer in Maine, and when I would enter the Target in Portland, I’d be washed over with that bizarre feeling that I might exit Target and be back in Philadelphia. But I wasn’t-- I was definitely in Maine, it’s just that the inside of the Target in Maine looked exactly like the inside of the Target in Philadelphia.

So what’s the deal?

Part of the reason NYC is so special is because it managed to transcend the thralls of capitalism. Local businesses find vigor here, rather than getting squashed out by Wal-Mart, Target, and McDonald’s.

Instead of buying books at Barnes and Noble, I can go to Community Bookstore or McNally Jackson or Corner Bookstore.

Instead of going for drinks with my friends at a chain bar like Dave and Buster’s, I can go to McSorley’s, where someone actually gives a sh*t what they're pouring into my glass rather than handing me a half-assed, over-priced Bud Light.

The #SaveNYC campaign confused me at first. I had no idea what they were trying to save. To me, NYC seemed to be in no danger, seemed to be electric and eclectic and alive under my feet.

I’d never seen so many independent bars, restaurants, bookstores anywhere I’d been in America. I was thrilled (and still am) to be living in a city with such individualistic flare. It’s this very flair that makes me never want to leave.

According to Citylab.com, though, the number of national chain stores in New York City increased last year by 2.5 percent, marking the sixth year in a row that number has risen.

The #SaveNYC campaign was founded by Jeremiah Moss, who’s been documenting the converting of New York City's special, unique, privately owned businesses into the capitalist commercialism of America for years on his website.

Moss is encouraging New Yorkers to upload videos about their favorite small business to his site, and use the hashtag #SaveNYC to bring attention to endangered establishments.

So what’s the solution? I’m not sure. I believe in small businesses, their flair, and their individuality. But I can’t deny the comfort of familiarity. I mean, I can’t even bring myself to promise to never eat at that Applebee's in Times Square again.

And that's really, really... weird.

If you enjoyed this article, check out #SaveNYC: Here’s Why McSorley’s Is (and Always Should Be) a Thing in NYC!