(From my 2011 summer internship.)
New York City: the city that never sleeps and is filled with inspirational flashing lights and busy streets. I was excited about my internship in Manhattan. As the plane lowered into the New York area, I looked out of my window at all of the skyscrapers and backed-up traffic below. This was my first trip to the Big Apple. I had been anticipating this trip for the past two months and still couldn’t believe I had been so blessed to receive the opportunity to actually work in New York. I mean, if I can make it here, I can make it almost anywhere, I thought to myself.
I walked out of JFK International Airport and smelled the air. It was much different from the air I was used to breathing in Florida, and most certainly different from the air in Alabama. My mother and I walked over to join a line of people waiting to catch a taxi. This was my first New York taxi cab ride, well, my first everything. I felt like a kid in a toy store the week before Christmas. Everything was new to the eye, and my life for the next few weeks would be filled with inaugural experiences.
You see, I’m one of those emotional types of persons who catch some type of feeling about everything. I’m always thinking, this is my first ever, or this is my last ever, or sometimes I even think this is my last, first ever whatever. I can’t help but try to make every single event of my life memorable. After all, we only get one life to live, and it goes by in the blink of an eye. Life is what you make of it so why not make the best of it.
As our cab pulled up, our driver put our luggage into the trunk. I excitedly slid into the backseat of the cab and sat behind the passenger seat. The windows were down which gave me the opportunity to not only see New York, but to hear it. We sped through Queens and I looked at how different things were. The houses and how close together they were, the people, and the activities going on. I watched as many people crowded the street at a street festival in Jamaica, all while shopping, dancing, and blasting Reggae music.
Our driver weaved in and out of the Saturday traffic. We arrived in Manhattan, which was completely different from Queens’ culture. We finally reached Greenwich Village: home of New York University. I immediately fell in love with all of the diversity. The driver pulled up to our destination, my new home for the next few weeks. It was two brownstones, also known as the Alma Matthews House, located at 275 West 11th Street. I dragged my luggage inside as mom paid the cab driver.
We checked into our separate rooms. The manager told us that we may want to switch since my mom’s room was larger and because I was staying longer. He was right. My room, located on the fourth floor, was tiny. What made it seem even tinier was the low ceiling as well as the fact that the window was placed quite low on the wall. Now, I’m 6’1, and standing in a room where the window only comes as high as your neck just made me feel like a giant in the room. The bed was also small, but I’m pretty much used to small beds by now.
My NYC Brownstone.
I went downstairs to the second floor to my mom’s room. It was way bigger than mine, and it had a walk-in closet. I told her, “Oh we definitely need to exchange rooms.” But she told me I could just move into that room after she left in a few days. Of course this made me upset, but I didn’t really let it bother me because I was finally in New York. We gathered our things and headed out the door to take on the concrete jungle.
We decided to explore the neighborhood. There was a street fair going on near Washington Square, so we decided to check it out. We walked through the streets looking at each of the vendors’ tables. We were thirsty so we decided to try some organic mango strawberry smoothies. Walking down the street with all of the different booths reminded me of the Olustee Festival that is put on in Lake City, which is my hometown, every year. I hadn’t been to a festival in years so I was kind of thrilled to shop. I looked at different bags and scarfs, while mom looked at sweet grass baskets.
As we walked towards Washington Square, a strange man, who was walking along beside us, started talking to us. He introduced himself as Randy, and proceeded to hit on my mother. I could only look away so that I could laugh quietly. However, she did well. She even gave him a fake name, Debra. But Randy kept following us. Finally we came to an intersection. As the light was turning, we rushed across the street through a crowd of people in the opposite direction Randy was walking. We lost him.
We made our way towards Seventh Avenue. Mom suggested we eat at Five Guys. This would be her first time eating there, and she suggested it because I talk about eating there all the time. We ordered our burgers and fries to go, and we headed back to the house. We each went to our separate rooms. The only thing I missed that wasn’t in the room was a TV. There was a window air conditioner unit. I hated it because it was loud and too close to the bed. It blew directly on my face.
I ate my dinner, listened to my one of my many Pandora stations, and checked my Facebook. After that, I was exhausted. The “Itis” was settling in, and I was exhausted from the trip in. I had woken up at 5 a.m. to get to the airport, and we had had a long layover in Charlotte. I lay across my bed, and before I knew it I had fallen asleep. I woke up about an hour later. I changed into some sleepwear and got into bed. I lay there in silence listening to the sound of the city at night. To my surprise it was quiet. I heard the occasional voices from people as they walked by, and once I heard the sounds of sirens going down a nearby street. My room overlooked the street. I thought it would be much noisier, but I guess New York, or at least the Greenwich Village, wasn’t as loud at night as I had thought it would be. This was my first surprise about New York. You see, I had made many assumptions about New York, and to my surprise many of my assumptions weren’t true. I fell asleep thinking, wow, I’ve finally made it to the big city. Day one was a success, and I couldn’t wait to wake up and explore more of the concrete jungle.
Miss Gabrielle Bellamy 