This post is episode 2 in the “Becoming a New Yorker” series. Originally posted on www.swamphatched.com:
Phase 1: The Bus
I will never get off this bus. This thought keeps popping up in my rotation. Maybe it was the fact that the day before I left, my sister asked, “Does it feel real?” and it didn’t. I could not visualize what it meant to be one day away from moving to New York City. Maybe it didn’t feel real because it wasn’t and I’d never actually make it to The City or get off the Megabus. But at 7:40pm as I watch the lights of the Lincoln Tunnel flash by the bus window, it's real. I lean over to Drew and admit, “I feel like a scared little country mouse in the big city.”
Phase 2: the Subway
At 7:50 Drew and I dismount the bus, collect our luggage, and begin our journey to our sublet. We descend underground: each with a backpack on our shoulders, a pillow in our arms, and a 50lb suitcase in tow. I had been dreading navigating the stairs into and out from the subway with such unwieldy luggage, and for naught! We take an escalator down into the station, then an elevator up to the platform. By the time we get off at our local station, I have mustered the confidence to carry my bag swiftly up the stairs.
Phase 3: Getting in
In a group chat earlier that day, we got a text from our sublet contact: “The keys are with Leon at the laundromat down the street.” We go to find Leon. Google helps us find the laundromat with the bright yellow awning. I stand outside with our two bags, two packs, and two pillows while Drew ventures in. Not 30 seconds pass before Drew comes back out the door, mouth slightly agape, uttering “Leon isn’t here.”
Okay. We call our contact, and they offer to try to help over the phone (from the backstage of a comedy club in Connecticut, 20 minutes before their set). Drew takes the phone into the laundromat, our contact does what they can, I babysit the luggage, and eventually: a ring of three keys! A small ordeal.
Phase 4: going out
We make a multi-hour late night trek to Target, with only minimal mis-navigation. A garden supply business under a train bridge, rain drops on my glasses, a church lit by red bulbs, and hurty feet lead us back to our temporary home. We get cleaned up and tucked in for our first night of city sleep; we are exhausted, so we knock out quick. Staying asleep is an entirely different beast: between the lack of a comforter, pipe sounds, two roommates on night schedules returning home between 2 and 6am, and the disruptive energy of being in a new bed/room/city…Drew and I are both counting down the hours until we can get up again.
The First Wakeup
Waking up for the hundredth time, it still looks dark outside our building-facing windows. I check the clock — it is finally 8am, I am giddy to get up. Drew turns over, “is it morning?” in the same boat. We get up, get ready, and head downtown to a longtime favorite breakfast spot: Grey Dog!
After we finish our two big breakfasts, we saunter over to the Chelsea market. A plaque on the building tells us we are on site of the historical Nabisco factory. We pass butchers and stationers. We smell barbecue and ramen. We drift down side-hallways to view mini art exhibits.
The First Day
A few errands, a long walk in Central Park, towers, new grass, young families, and a couple subway rides later we find ourselves at a restaurant called Forgtmenot for dinner. We tried to get reservations earlier in the day, but we were told that “tonight is the Super Bowl” so they weren’t taking any. Good news is we did not need them! Laughter, colored lights, we are sat at a table in the back bar room. The tv is blasting football; I order pasta and Drew orders a burger. We finish up and meander down the Chinatown streets to attend what we think will be the grand finale of the night!
The 24th hour
The Metrograph: a 35mm film movie theater on Ludlow street. There is no bright sign, no matinee announcing what’s showing, only a discrete awning with two doors to allow you entrance. We’re here to see the screening of a 35mm print of Martin Scorsese’s New York, New York. I am not joking. At practically the exact 24 hour anniversary of Drew and my arrival in this city, the opening credits begin to roll. Liza Minelli and Robert De Niro spend the next two and a half hours weaving a tale of the city. When it ends at almost 11pm, we start to head home.
On the subway, Drew proposes “it might be crazy, but do you want to get off at Times Square for Shake Shack?” I’m in. While walking through the Sunday-night-quiet of Times Square, a thought occurs to us. What if we instead go for a quintessential (even touristy) Big Apple dessert: cheesecake at Juniors. They are open for another 45 minutes. Let’s go!
The City that Doesn’t sleep
Chocolate mousse, cookie crust, sleepy servers, and a “thank you, goodnight.” We find ourselves out again in the empty street. To be quiet in a place that buzzes constantly with people from around the world, in a city that houses millions of natives and transplants alike, bearing witness to the bright lights and cinematic images…is profound.
24 hours and a New York minute ago, I shared with Drew my excitement and my fear about coming to “the big city.” I had moved to New York! I had no idea what would happen next. Drew said: “Millions of country mice have done it before us.”