New York Diary #5

The People That Stay

^Sophia at the Met <3

I spent all of last week dawdling at work and nitpicking my Sunday itinerary. I said that when Sophia and her mom got here I wanted them to have the real experience. I wanted, in approximately twelve hours, to be able to convince her to love New York in the way that I do, to sell it with a gusto only matched by a waspy midwestern suburban realtor. Make no mistake— I never thought Sophia would walk out of New York wanting to live in the city. I think my desire stemmed mostly from the idea that I walk around each day acting like (and truly believing) I’ve been made new by my time here. I wanted someone else to feel it. I want to not feel crazy, mainly.

They got the full experience. Most definitely. Within approximately twelve hours, we witnessed the fullest day in New York. Someone dodged the police, chased a few yards away from us in Times Square as we sipped coffee after I picked them up from the bus. They saw me jump the guardrail and make eye contact with the guards, they got squashed on the most crowded Q train during Broadway rush hour. The L was stopped indefinitely in the evening. We wandered through midtown. We wandered through the East Village. We wandered through Central Park. We brushed past NoHo. I showed off the contemporary art at the Met and my guests were phenomenal sports about it. I demonstrated how thrifting prices here are not, in fact, thrifty. My phone died and we went to the wrong side of that train station. They got to try the best pizza in the city. We did more in a day than some people do during entire weekends. Not to toot my own horn, but I give a damn good tour.