Love Letters To New York City IV

Dear New York City,

I spent my last full day having a late breakfast at my favorite window over looking one of my now favorite corners. I couldn't eat much and the very same coffee that I had enjoyed sipping the previous mornings tasted bitter. My tummy felt heavy as if I just swallowed a plate full of stones and my heart felt heavy as well. I was already sad that I would be leaving you. I thought that we didn't really have enough time to get to know each other, but in those brief fleeting moments, I had fallen in love with you, New York City. But had you fallen in love with me? If you had you could never say it to me. So how would I know?

One thing I had found was I had packed all the wrong clothes. Blame it on Carrie Bradshaw and her SIC friends. I had packed to bring a bit of fabulous Cali to NYC, but I found that 3 inch stacked heeled Mary Janes just didn't cut it while on an adventure on your streets. Damn you Jessica Parker and your dancing in the streets of NYC in your stilletos and pink khakiness, tricking me into believing in fashion over function! Ay-yi-yi! My friend and I walked at least an hour and half, and part way through our walk even made mention of my shoes down Park Avenue. Concrete. Asphalt. Concrete. Asphalt. I lied and said my shoes were quite comfortable...my voice trailing off on the comfortable part. That must have been noticed....Hmmmm...maybe not as we are distracted by me walking into natives and tourists and I am all "Excuse me please. Ooops! Excuse me!"...cause I'm clumsy like that.

I could have walked for hours and hours and even more hours.

The walk ended too soon.

In my hotel room, removing my shoes I find my feet bleeding. Ooops! Aren't I the dope??? Even so, I think it was worth it. The walk was magical and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Maybe I'm still a bit high off the huge iced-coffee. I'm ready for more adventuring. I shower and then head down into the lobby. I'm about to take my first taxi ride...

Taxi's. Yeah I'm familiar with them. Why a couple almost ran me over my second night in your city. But I have never in my life taken a taxi. I've seen them here in downtown SD on humid weekend nights, stuck in traffic for miles as herds of half dressed girls and guys cruise the downtown streets, most of them drunk off their asses. Here in SD taxis stop for pedestrian crossings, even if the pedestrian is crossing against a "Don't Walk". In NYC, that is not the case.

So as I walked out of my hotel I am pondering exactly how I should hail my first taxi. Chasing one down the street was not gonna do. Should I stand at the curb and nonchalantly hold my arm up, maybe with two fingers pointing, for what I don't know exactly, but perhaps for some false air of confidence? Then I remember a photographer telling me during a photoshoot years ago, that one of the most pleasing visuals is when a female emmulates an "S" shape with her body. Would a pleasing visual be a better way to hail a taxi? I try to remember how he posed me. Ummm...nope that particular "S" required me to lay down on the ground and contort myself. The next one that popped into my mind...nope...no bar stool conveniently handy. Right about then my hotel doorman came up and asked if he could hail my cab. Arrrggh! No! That would defeat the purpose of my not yet defined purpose! I smile and decline, then instead of chasing a taxi down the street, I run up the street and catch one at the corner. I didn't really have to run as he was just sitting there with his little lighted numbers all a glow so what was the rush? There was no rush, but I ran anyways.

Once in the taxi I was suprised that despite threats to run you over while crossing against the "Don't Walk" sign, NYC cabbies are actually pretty nice guys! I also found riding in a cab in NYC was very much like being a computer animated character in the video game Crazy Taxi. And I ain't lieing! I'm pretty sure besides leaving my new found NYC cabbie friend with nice conversation and a sense of self worth and comradery, I also left my nail marks on the leather seats in the back of his cab. Truly, he was cool. And the best part? He would not take my tip! Can you believe that??? Who refuses a tip??? Who even???

So...this is where I ended up...

While I was entranced with every wing of the Met, I spent the most time at the Ernst exhibit...

Because I literally could not believe my eyes when I saw Max Ernst's name dancing on the wall like a surrealistic rainbow of red, I totally missed the no camera sign at the front to the exhibit. A museum usher person set me straight right away about my faux pas...but not before I could snap a shot of Town With Animals!!!

Ha! In your face Mr. Museum Usher person!!!

Regretting right now? I didn't have a chance to hit up Whitney or the Museum of Modern Art. I know! I know!!! But next time my pretties...

By the time I wandered out of the Met, it was pretty dark. I walked to the curb and glanced down 5th Avenue. My sense of adventure was waning. I lifted my hand into the air like a native and hailed a cab no problem. Another nice cabbie. He has a huge laugh and tells me he's trying to save money so he can open a restraunt in Miami. He tells me I should learn Spanish since I live in San Diego. We're two strangers laughing at things that I would normally not laugh about. It just seems easier here. He takes my tip.

In my room I'm packing. I'm regretting scheduling an early flight out. I feel like I didn't get a proper chance to say goodbye. I'm missing you already. Like a mofo even. Damn.

Luckily it hits me as I'm looking through all my Met pictures. I rush downstairs and towards the lobby doors. The doorman is super young. He barely pulled the door open for me before I ran into it. He's smiling hugely.

Me: Did I miss it??? Is it still there???

Doorman: Miss what Miss?

Me: The Crysler Building? Is it still lit? It's my last night. And I think I've missed it lit...

He looks at his watch.

Doorman: Well it's 11 now...come look it might still be lit...well see...it's barely lit. But the Empire State Building is still lit. Come I'll show you.

He offers his arm and I take it. He walks me to the corner of E.37th and points. I sigh.

Doorman: Oh but you don't want to take pictures of the Empire State Building here Miss.

Me: I don't?

Doorman: No. What you want to do is take the elevator to the 16th floor to the rooftop bar. It's closed and there may be a guard keeping people off the roof, but if you just tell him I sent you, he'll let you on the roof.

On the rooftop, there's no one there. The traffic sounds different below me and the air is chillier. But he's right. This is where I want to be.

I took a gazillion pictures of the ESB before I turned to see what else was around me. I was so happy when I turned to see. Happy. But then sad at the same time that I was seeing this alone.

An hour passed.

This was my last view of E.37th...

By the time I finished packing and got myself into bed, I didn't sleep very well. I lay my head on my favorite pillow and kicked myself for not initially taking more time. But it's just one of those things. You just never know until you know.

My shuttle arrived right on time. 5:00 a.m. sharp. The doorman who gave me the best best tip ever kept me company while I waited. Like every other New Yorker I had met he looks me in the eye when he speaks. His smiles are huge and match his laugh. He tells me I would do good in NY and explains that NYC is where his heart is. Yeah. I can understand that as at the moment so is mine. Once again I find myself laughing about things I wouldn't normally find funny. But it's just seems so easy to in this new reality that will be ending soon.

In the shuttle we pass familiar places from my walks. Little pangs shoot through my heart. I will miss you. Then too soon we're crossing the same bridge I took into Midtown. On the other end we pass the cemetaries. How fitting since I feel like a little piece of me is dieing the farther we drive away. I think we're driving through Queens but can't be sure and don't ask. I look back for as long as I can see the Chrysler Building. It's still lit but fades away as we pass more graves.

The shuttle pulls up at the my terminal. I get out and step on to the pavement. It seems the same wind that played around my ankles when I arrived is back. I'm freezing and start to think about how warm it will be when I finally get home. Ticketed. Luggage checked. I wait to board the plane. I try and fill my head with thoughts of home and everything waiting for me there. My thoughts are all conscious efforts as I know if I allow my thoughts to wander soon my heart will be breaking as I'm thinking I may never see you again, NYC. I tell myself I'm coming back. I'm coming back. That's the plan NYC. But this thing called reality, it has a funny way of sneaking in there sometimes and throwing me for a loop. The reality of reality, something I've grown accustomed to and have learned how to face.