One belongs to New York instantly. One belongs to it as much in five minutes as in five years.
The real marvel here isn't simply that New York seduces quickly—it's Wolfe's claim that *time doesn't deepen belonging*. You arrive as a stranger and within minutes the city claims you wholly; five years later, you're no more "yours" than you were on day one. This suggests something almost unsettling: that New York operates on a principle of instant totality rather than gradual accumulation, that you either fall under its spell immediately or you never do. If you've ever watched a newcomer to the city—eyes wide on the subway, suddenly moving faster, suddenly speaking differently—you recognize what Wolfe means: they're transformed not by learning New York's rhythms, but by being absorbed into them the moment they arrive.