My mom was scared of the old Times Square so I was never allowed to go. Now I’m scared of the new Times Square, so I still never go.

Lakshmi contrasts two eras of Times Square—its once-notorious, “dangerous” reputation and its later, heavily policed, corporate, tourist-oriented makeover—to explain a lifelong avoidance shaped first by parental restriction and later by her own discomfort. The humor hinges on reversal: the old Times Square was feared for vice and crime; the new one can be “scary” in a different way—overcrowded, commercialized, and aggressively performative. The line also gestures toward how cities change faster than personal habits do: even when the external risk profile shifts, inherited anxieties and learned boundaries can persist, becoming self-imposed.