[Soundtrack option: Play Dave Brubeck’s Take Five in the background while reading this post for a fuller experience.]
From August of 2009 until February of 2015 I worked and lived in New York City. In Manhattan. Finishing school in May of 2009, desirable full-time jobs were scarce. And while I gave it some thought, grad school would have simply meant adding student loan debt. Plus, I had no set career path to warrant a master’s degree. Shortly after graduation my lifelong friend and then-Manhattanite suggested I come down to interview for the job she recently left as an assistant. I’d just finished a semester in Paris that winter, so the prospect of living in a global city with English as its first language sounded kind of easy. I interviewed, was offered the job, and my time in New York soon began.
For a long time after I left New York, the city rarely crossed my mind. Lately wistful memories keep creeping in. But, do I actually miss living in New York? Back then the path ahead was getting a job in Albany so I could leave New York. On monthly trips to Albany I would sit on Amtrak crying my way back to the city. Seriously.
So, I’ve been mulling it over. Trying to suss out if I’m merely nostalgic for some fleeting feelings that only New York can stir in me, or if I truly miss the day-to-day realities of my old life. What was it like. . .
An hour plus of commuting to my job five days a week. Longer with MTA delays. That was time to people watch, listen to music, read books. Cell service didn’t function underground back in my day!
Being around people constantly, without any expectation of having to interact with a single one of them. There is something about the energetic density of human life in New York that seems to feed the soul’s need for connection while maintaining anonymity. One of my favorite forms of intimacy is “alone together”- being with my nearest and dearest but not saying a word. New Yorkers live a shared experience without a need to acknowledge it.
Talking to yellow cab drivers from all over the world. Sigh, I did miss cabs when I first moved out. I was in the city pre-Uber peak and always opted for hailing cabs. Another unspoken agreement existed there— a yellow cab felt safe. The drivers were often on phone calls with loved ones on the other side of the globe, speaking in their native language. I think I was a little in love with every driver who got me home safely, efficiently, and especially with the drivers from North Africa who let me use my rusty French. Sigh. . . are yellow cabs now what they were then?
47th Street, aka the Diamond District. The whole time I was in the city I worked in luxury jewelry. I loved it. But I hit my stride in my second of two jobs in the industry, when I took weekly trips to 47th street to run errands for the business. Dropping off repairs, getting pieces polished, selling gold and bench sweeps, dropping off castings & picking up molds, buying gemstones, chains, findings, boxes, tools. People from all over the world are crammed onto one little precious-metals-and-stones filled block. I loved all the dynamics at play. All the languages being spoken. All the religions mixed together. It’s hard to convey the feeling it gave me. A blend of agency, power, and money- all in the name of jewelry, of beauty. An indescribable magic.
The parks! I lived in three different apartments, but all were on the Upper East Side. Carl Schurz Park up above the East River and Central Park were always available to me. I’d take a blanket and book and go lie in some grass. Or let myself go from the East Side to the West on foot for my internship, always getting a little lost. My first job was at Columbus Circle, and I even walked home a few times through the park— making my way from W. 59th street up to 91st and Third.
The food. Lenny’s for lunch (mmm.. my perfect buffalo chicken sandwich). Tartine. Paulie Gee’s. Joy Burger Bar. Shake Shack. Luke’s Lobster. The Mansion Diner. Gracie Mews. The Barking Dog Cafe. The Dish. Really, all the diners. That coffee shop on Lexington that enforced no phones. Shepherd’s pie with a side of brown gravy and a Magner’s at Kinsale Tavern. Pio Pio green sauce. The Chicken Biscuit from Pies and Thighs. Big Gay Ice Cream. Trailer Park. Roberta’s scene. Making friends at the Korean BBQ in Midtown. Little Italy. Yorkville Creperie. Macarons everywhere (even eventually Laduree!). Donuts everywhere. Cupcakes (remember when they were the hottest?) everywhere. Coffee and bagel breakfast from the cart on the street. Chocolate croissants from Butterfield Market. Oysters everywhere. Pizza everywhere. Being able to satisfy any craving, at almost any hour of the day. Sigh.
The movie theaters. I don’t have a logical explanation for this, but there was something different about seeing movies in New York. Batman way downtown by the WTC. The original Ghostbusters at the AMC Lincoln Square— seeing The Great Gatsby in 3-D at that same UWS theater after dinner at the Lincoln Center P.J. Clarke’s (then going to Albany and seeing it in standard). Finding out Nora Ephron had died while waiting in line to see To Rome with Love at the Angelika on Houston. All the French films at FIAF. Walking to a theater many blocks away to see Frankenweenie after Hurricane Sandy when the subways were still down and it was time to get out of the apartment. Oh, and all the outdoor movies! Like the egregious showing of Blazing Saddles in Bryant Park and profoundly watching Fievel’s An American Tail by the Brooklyn Bridge with a view of lady Liberty in the distance.
Museums! The Museum of Natural History- seeing the planetarium show on my birthday! The Met— sitting in the Versailles panorama room when I missed Paris (that’s its own nostalgia post!)! The Guggenheim. And all the others— always there for me.
Shopping. Being able to literally go out and get almost anything I could possibly want. Lots of my income went to Paper Source & Sur La Table when I was working in SoHo. All the bookstores— especially the Strand and Kitchen Arts & Letters. All the producer-only Farmer’s Markets! All the grocery stores, all the specialty food stores. And the Christmas Markets! Holiday shopping was never easier than in New York. Chelsea Market. Grand Central Terminal.
Brooklyn. I managed to never move there, but I loved having adventures in BK. Art shows. Roberta’s. Paulie Gee’s. Achilles Heel. Artists and Fleas. Festivals. Movies with a View. Four & Twenty Blackbirds. And the pure magic of catching a yellow cab at the end of a wild night! Sigh.
Hosting my birthday/New Year’s Eve parties! The best thing about my NYC birthdays was the ease of gathering friends from near & far to come together to celebrate the New Year and me! I loved mixing my unrelated friends together year after year, allowing laughter and conversation to heat up my various small apartments on those freezing winter nights to ring in the New Year and my birthday. Love.
Going to Yankee games on the fly. Getting to see Madonna! Randomly going to a Giants game, for free or next to nothing. Being able to say “yes” to so many things that came up last minute simply because I was already in New York.
Deepening existing friendships, creating new lifelong friendships. Dave Matthews sings “turns out not where but who you’re with that really matters”. And in NYC this is absolutely true. I moved to the city at the urging of my already-ride-or-die bestie Jocelin. Without her I really wouldn’t have moved. And thanks to her, and our shared proclivity for co-mingling friends, I was able to keep meeting new people when I first arrived and form my own relationships. New York is best lived with friends.
Dishonorable mentions: Mountains of garbage bags covered in fresh white snow. Rats in the subway. Weekend subway delays.
This list of memories feels like its only a start.
Being in New York brought me expansion. I know for certain I’d be a very different person today if I hadn’t chosen that path in the summer of 2009.
Ultimately, no, I do not see myself moving back. So much of what I loved doesn’t even exist now. New York is always changing. Sometimes life is just fucking hard, and I can dip into my nostalgia and be grateful for my experiences and memories, the good and the ugly, without feeling like I need to dive back into a reality that has now passed.
A realistic solution: visit.
When my salary was laughably small I would take the Megabus up to Albany at least once every two months, paying as low as $2 roundtrip! Then when I started making money I let myself lifestyle creep and switched to the luxury and reliability of Amtrak rides… usually $80 roundtrip. I was visiting Albany a l l t h e t i m e.
Its been over seven years since I moved out, and I can count on one hand the number of times I have visited New York City. So, no, Mary. When you miss New York the answer isn’t to think-up-ways-to-move-back, it is to go for a day trip, go spend the weekend with friends.
Go. Then come home.
Soundtrack: Dave Brubeck’s Take Five
Read: Hanging out with Fran helps, too
Plan Your Visit: NYC The Official Guide
Watch: 101 Best New York Movies