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January 17, 2006
New York, New York
The first time I ever visited New York was over ten years ago, when I was fourteen. I came over with my parents, sister, and cousin, and we stayed at a hotel near Times Square. Back then Times Square was not yet Disney-fied by Giuliani, and thus our hotel was not one would call ‘luxurious.’ There were cracks in the walls, it stank of smoke, and sometimes we would spy a roach scampering across the floor. Times Square was crowded, even more so than today, and it was grittier: I remember street vendors showcasing fake Rolexes in briefcases, only to quickly disappear within the throng of tourists as soon as a police officer was sighted nearby.
It was a fascinating experience, something totally detached from the relative slow-pace-ness of Seattle, and I loved every moment of it. I wanted to be a part of it.
Well, ten years later I’m back in Times Square, at my cubicle overlooking the chaos of advertisements and tourists, and it still has yet to hit me that I’m here. For some reason I still feel like I am on vacation from Seattle, and that at any time now I’ll soon be on an airplane back home with my clothes and stories. It’s all very detached still, this new experience, and because I still feel very transitory I am not necessarily homesick yet.
I’ve fantasized a lot about what my life would be like in the Big Apple, but I never did idealize what the city itself would be like: I knew coming here I would be making a lot of financial sacrifices, relinquishing any form of personal transportation, and be living in a city where I knew almost no one. New York City is a dirty, stinky, noisy, and violent place, I know that, but at the same time no other city in the US has the abundance of culture, music, art, food, and language that New York City does. For those reasons alone, I love it here.
Posted by Charlie at January 17, 2006 02:58 PM