Went Back Home to New York for a Few Weeks

You guys already know that though I'm living in Charlotte, I still work remotely for the New Jersey company I've been at for the last 6 years. It's truly a lucky break that the place allowed me to move here three years ago and still keep my job AND my old salary. And this week, we happened to be going IPO, so I was invited to the festivities at the New York Stock Exchange. I also decided that I wasn't going to visit family when I went back to New York, and was just going to work, shop and chill out. Shhhh....don't tell my mother!

Anyway, last week I did my thing at work 12 hours a day, and then enjoyed some shopping at Loehmann's, Century 21 and Daffy's--stores that would make a killing if they ever moved to Charlotte. One thing I do find in NC, is that the clothing is pretty pedestrian unless you go to one of the many boutiques in the area--but the who the heck wants to pay those prices? Everyone, for some reason, seems to dress exactly the same here. Every time I return to New York for work, I go with an empty suitcase and load up on clothing to bring back to Charlotte.

I booked my travel at the very last minute, and there were no hotels available in Manhattan, so I had to stay in a little rathole in Jersey City just across the river. At 7AM, I took the path train over to Wall Street, which is nothing more than a 5 minute trip. The train swoops around Ground Zero, and there was activity going on there much as it has been for the last 6 years.

I see this swarm of bodies running out of the train and up the long stairs that lead everyone up to the street level. It's this twice-daily rush hour ritual that always appear perfectly choreographed and everyone moves like a swarm of ants heading out of the hole to get up to the surface. I sure don't miss it. I don't miss standing on a NYC subway platform in August when there is zero airflow and everyone is sweaty and aggravated. I don't miss cramming onto the F train while the guy next to you is unknowingly jabbing his briefcase into your ribcage. And I sure as heck don't miss rainy days when you're jumping over puddles at the crosswalks while hoping not to get sloshed by the crosstown bus.

I finally come out onto Church Street and I immediately get that rush that happens to me every time I step in Manhattan--I always wish I could live here again. Of course, when I'm considering this I don't have my 2 young kids tugging on me and I'm not thinking about the fact that to live in NYC well, it requires you to be a millionaire. There just is something about Manhattan that is like nowhere on earth. I see Trinity Church around the corner and my knees feel weak...what a marvelous building.

Later in the day, I headed back up to our office on 19th and 5th Avenue, and I started looking for the restaurants and bars that I used to frequent as a single twenty-something. The Coffee Shop is still there....Union Square Cafe still around....Chat n' Chew check!....Steak Frites outta business...ah well! It's amazing how much things change in New York every time I go.

It's 11AM, and the 3 other women I'm with and I settle on the Coffee Shop on the corner by Union Square Park. The moment the menu hits the table, the waitress is immediately asking us what we want to order with a surly attitude. We haven't even had a chance to look crack it open, so we're struggling to come up with an answer and after 10 seconds she walks off in a huff. Clearly, I'm no longer used to the fast-paced pressure of everything in New York.

I order a Cuban sandwich, since there's virtually nowhere to get a decent one in Charlotte other than at Carlos Cafe in Rock Hill, SC, which is a bit of a hike for me when I get the craving for it. I also order a pomegranate mimosa--what the heck, I'm in New York! At the end of the day, we head over to the bar at the Soho Grand Hotel for a drink, and I make my way over to the elegant walnut bar as a bartender with a mohawk takes my order. And we end the night at the Canal Room, a club on West Broadway. I felt content that i had a fully quintessential New York City day.

Finally, I get on the plane at Newark and there's delays. Someone can spit on the tarmac at Newark Airport and you're guaranteed a delay due to "weather." The claim is that it's second in delayed flights to O'Hare Airport in Chicago. At some point I get to Charlotte Douglas International Airport, and I grab my car and get on 77 South. I turn on the country music station and sing along to the Dixie Chicks' Cowboy Take Me Away.

I'm home. I'm happy here. I love living in Charlotte.