New York/New Work

I can’t tell if Esme can discern the words “New York” from “new work” because there’s no perceptible difference between the two in her sweet toddler voice. Both are accurate in this case as I pack my bags for my second business trip for the month. I wish I could pack her, her mother, and her brother into my luggage and smuggle them with me. Instead, Ruby hands me winterized children’s car seat covers to donate once I get settled in Manhattan.

Off to New Work. Arriving in midtown at noon required catching an Uber to IAH at 4am, a flight to LGA at 6am, and another Uber to Grand Central Station. My inflight entertainment was the film adaptation of ‘Wicked’ (4/5 stars). I am anti-WiFi on planes. 

After an afternoon filming videos and making a game plan for the next day, our team makes our way to The Westin Grand Central. It’s the same as any other Westin, except that it’s wildly more expensive. I plan a route to B&H Photo to update the firmware on my Nikon Zf (our IT department prohibits downloading almost anything form the internet) after a brief facetime with the family. I’ll pass through Bryant Park, skirt the edge of Time Square, and catch some commuters at Penn Station.

The streets are characteristically bustling with people. I’m caught off-guard by the number of opportunities to purchase street food, MAGA merch, and marijuana. After two years in the burbs, I’m clumsy and slow and making street photographs is awkward. I’m lonely and uninspired by the scene before me. Everything feels cliché and I feel insignificant. Fortunately, I end the evening by catching up with an old roommate over dinner.

The next evening, work hosted a dinner inside the back room of the Grand Brassiere. This is the kind of place that highlights just how privileged I am to have my job. I’d never have known this place existed, much less filled my gullet with steak, chicken, fish, truffle frittes, and a Shirley Temple, without being in my role. I duck out early to meet another old friend.

Sage let me drag him around tourist traps for hours while we caught up. Times Square, MSG, 30 Rock… Some part of me wants to be “above” visiting them and seize stolen valor from my mom having lived in Queens for 10 years. A bigger part of me wants to experience the tsunami of LED lights, deafening music, competing performers/street vendors, and the pulses of thousands of people gathered together in these tiny corners of the world. It’s nauseating. It’s embarrassing. It’s both overwhelming and underwhelming. It’s getting high and overeating at Taco Bell. Awesome, but sad.

The city makes me miss my own tiny corner of the world. Surrounded by millions of people, yet recognizing no one makes me miss waving at my neighbors. Even with a few good friends to pass the time, I’m ready to go home.