Saturday
Each trip of mine to New York has been very distinct from the previous. In its mood, of the people I meet and of the many things that my brain is constantly grappling with as I scan this city and its people.
J got back from his South East Asian trip so jet lag and grumpiness are threatening the prospect of what I had in mind for this trip. But friends stick up for each other so I am being patient and trying to not feel bummed about the fact that he leaves for SXSW on Monday.
For the first time in the city, Saturday night was a promise of getting wasted and living it up. Neither of that happened. J and Puiya had been drinking all evening so by the time they got home, whiskey was running in their veins. More whiskey shots followed between the men while I quitely sipped my Kahlua and listened to 'Something Good Can Start' by Two Door Cinema Club (my latest song running in a loop). Puiya pulled me up and we were dancing freestyle jazz followed by THE dip. I have always wanted to be dipped that low with my head touching the floor backwards like they show in the movies, so this was so much fun...after such a long time.
Next, we caught a train to Brooklyn and reached a pub that was clearly a place for 35 and older. The music wasn't snazzy for a Saturday night but I got to meet a cinematographer, more lawyers (are there more legal personnel in this world than we need because I just meet too many of them!) and a med school student. These days with my low threshold for alcohol, I stick to one gin and tonic but J's whiskey fest left him sick. Over lemon and water and my efforts to make him feel better, I spoke a bit too much perhaps about our common concerns of our friendship and my indecisiveness of moving to NYC or LA . It was nice to be there just talking and listening to someone who's been such a good friend and strong source of comfort in the last couple of months. And in such moments, my heart just spills over. Maybe R was right but her counsel has killed motivation to just be in the moment. I am mad for the first time with a friend looking out for for me, because I think the universe works in such unfair ways. When you want to be carefree and spirited emotions run strong. And tables turn when you least expect them.
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Tuesday
The floor assistant selling me boots today flirted, asked my name repeatedly and claimed he waved tax for me.....freaked me out a bit. Good looking but very starry eyed so I played it cool and walked out fast. Walked a lot betwen 34th and 44th and my feet are killing me in these fancy boots. Met E at Madison and we talked for over two hours about Development and his experience in the industry so far. I love his energy and drive because it reminds me of myself being in hyper-productive mode which E is known for. I then took the plunge and wandered into the Museum of Sex all by myself. The graphic novels were a real catch but as J said, the other stuff was a bit wasted on me. But I still had a good laugh. Net time, I"ll be patient enough to explore the 2nd and 3rd floors as well. Heading back to J's apartment for a quite dinner and efforts to push through my Film Noir paper
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Wednesday
This city's penchant for throwing bizarre things my way is absolutely stupendous.
I am sitting at a Starbuck's on 46th and 9th to get work done because sitting in J's flat all alone depresses me, besides Micky and Lucy the cats just stare at me with the ''puss in boots eyes" wanting to be cuddled up and there's only a certain limit of cat hair that I am willing to entertain. I think having fat furry cats is an added advantage for struggling young professionals in New York. I suggested that we collect Mickey's and Lucy's fur and make it into cat yarn and then outsource it to knitters. Heard about Mohair? How about feline substitute? Hey, you can sell anything in a big city , especially to New Yorkers:)
So the Indian guy sitting next to me has a very heavy accent and has been talking serious business with people across the country. His fingers move smoothly over his ipad and that's about as expressive he is going to get . I am busy checking out a very very cute 28 something 'hipsterlicious' (as Jack puts it) who's just walked into the cafe and is now by my side when I notice a really grumpy looking stocky woman with a huge Russian nose, yank the chair opposite my nifty Indian business man and plant her big frame squarely across him. She is checking him out and he betrays no sign of surprise or irritation! Turns out she is not well in the 'sane' category . It's been half an hour and he sits working steadily while she sips her ice tea and mumbles grumbles all around the air....I am impressed.
Meanwhile, my said cute horn rimmed spectacle sporting 'hipsterlicious' friend is talking to another of his kind. Why didn't I realize this earlier. I am in Theatre District. Of course all good looking and interesting men are anything but straight
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Thursday
Today is St Pattie's and it's a really big deal in the city. Mostly an excuse to be drunk ALL day and wear green paraphernalia in the most imaginative manner. I really wanted to make the most of our last day in the city (me, Jess and Jack) so I found a play on Broadway that I really wanted to see with Jack. It's called The Book of Mormons and is written by the creators of South Park. Unfortunately the theatre company wasn't selling discounted tickets and after a half hour wait at the TKTS booth on Times Square I simply abandoned the idea and met up with Jess. We made our way to Central Park arguing about directions and cracking up all the way. The park was off limits but the sunny warm weather was still a bonus so we just walked around, ate hot dogs and ice cream and indulged in people watching. What a city of beautiful people I tell you.
I had an interview lined up on 23rd later that evening with the Producer whose credits are super impressive : Monsoon Wedding, You Don't Know Jack, Iron Jawed Angels, Hysterical Blindness, Mississippi Masala and The Darjeeling Limited. Jess gave me company all the way through Chelsea and we had a fair share of more hen watching but again, Chelsea people so .... straight men are a rarity. Chelsea is so much dirtier than I imagined it to be rather more earthy. Lots of quirky stores, brick red apartments and weird exotic poodle stores (I see lots of men with one of those bizarre midget dogs walking the streets of NYC). One was selling Japanese pups for $1400!
Finally, I get to the Producer's office and wait anxiously. It was a bit surreal to say the least sitting beneath these huge posters, shelves of manuscripts and books in this fancy studio office, knowing that you are just about to meet the brain who put together some of your favourite movies. The meeting went well, I think most of it did. And while nothing is on the cards for now, I am so grateful that people actually make the time for young people starting out. If only I could just get a job and move to the city!
Later that night, the girls and I landed in Grenwich in the village at the Sullivan's Hall. I dug this place out from Time Out, New York because of its promise of a cheap entry, good house and world music and amazing energy on the dance floor. Sadly, that didn't work out too well. By the time we entered the last of the bands was performing and then the techno trance converted it into a club mood so we got out. Jess had befriended a guy who's studying in SVA and he gave us directions to two dance clubs. Armed with maps we set out just the two of us. We barely crossed two blocks when a tall Polish guy grabbed Jess' map and promised us to find what we were looking for. Another Polish guy joined him and the next thing they were talking in their own lingo convincing us we should be making docus on their lives. Jess came up with "my brother is waiting for us" excuse and we managed to shake the weirdos off. Brrrrrrr. We laughed hard though and another 5 blocks down realized that she had left her credit card behind. When we got back to Sullian's, the SVA kid was still hanging around so we convinced him to join us and again began our hunt for the two promised clubs.
By 1 pm we realized that for some reason the village was dead and that we weren't going to be breaking a leg. The SVA kid treated us to a lot of NYC celeb gossip (including Leonardo Di Caprio's latest disguise at Soho) and finally took us to this little family run Chinese pub called Willle's close to the NYU dorms. It was perfect. Dog tired and barely awake, we downed pork dumplings and chatted up more.
So New York wasn't exactly what I had wanted from it this time. But, I walked much more, figured out the subway better this time and made new friends. The cabbie who dropped us off the last night was a political prisoner in Chad and once taught Math at a University before he had to leave his country and family and come away to New York.
The city surprises you, overwhelms you and then makes you grateful for all that you have.
