I like skyscrapers. I like that they're kind of big, glassy mountains, stretching up into the clouds so that you can't see the tops of them on a nice foggy day. I like walking around in among them, dropping my neck back to gawk at them. I like feeling small and hidden, like no one could find me even if they were looking.
New York, I've heard, has almost 6000 skyscrapers. Which meant that I could walk and walk and walk and never run out of them. Skyscrapers forever, both up and across.
On Wednesday afternoon, I finally got ahold of Emily, whose train had been delayed that morning and who hadn't received a single one of my texts at the time, and we decided to try meeting up again at a crowded Starbucks somewhere in the middle of Manhattan. When I checked the address she gave me on my map, I discovered that it was about four blocks from where I was at the time, so I left my group and headed off into the skyscrapers.
I arrived 20 minutes early, since I'd only had such a short walk to get there. I stood nervously by the window, holding a copy of the New York Times and feigning composure. I now realized I had more to worry about than if Emily turned out to be an axe murderer: what if she just straight-up hated me?
A rush of people entered the coffee shop, and I put my paper down. I tried to pat down my frizzy hair. I feel like some people tend to dislike you quicker if you look disheveled. Which is crazy unfortunate for me, most of the time.
"Suzy!?"
A girl was walking toward me through the crowd, smiling. I noticed, with great relief, that she was not a middle-aged man brandishing a gun or a sword or anything like that. She was Emily. She had brown hair and a backpack and didn't have a trace of mean on her face. We were off to a very good start, especially if she was not adverse to frizzy hair and ripped pants.
We got coffees and sat and talked like we hadn't just met and it wasn't awkward, even a little. {And by that, I mean that she wasn't awkward, even a little. Awkward is finely written into my DNA and I can't seem to do anything about it.}
She had to go to class too soon, but before she left I asked her which direction I should go to see something beautiful. She pointed me westward and told me to walk straight, and so I did.
New York, I've heard, has almost 6000 skyscrapers. Which meant that I could walk and walk and walk and never run out of them. Skyscrapers forever, both up and across.
On Wednesday afternoon, I finally got ahold of Emily, whose train had been delayed that morning and who hadn't received a single one of my texts at the time, and we decided to try meeting up again at a crowded Starbucks somewhere in the middle of Manhattan. When I checked the address she gave me on my map, I discovered that it was about four blocks from where I was at the time, so I left my group and headed off into the skyscrapers.
I arrived 20 minutes early, since I'd only had such a short walk to get there. I stood nervously by the window, holding a copy of the New York Times and feigning composure. I now realized I had more to worry about than if Emily turned out to be an axe murderer: what if she just straight-up hated me?A rush of people entered the coffee shop, and I put my paper down. I tried to pat down my frizzy hair. I feel like some people tend to dislike you quicker if you look disheveled. Which is crazy unfortunate for me, most of the time.
"Suzy!?"
A girl was walking toward me through the crowd, smiling. I noticed, with great relief, that she was not a middle-aged man brandishing a gun or a sword or anything like that. She was Emily. She had brown hair and a backpack and didn't have a trace of mean on her face. We were off to a very good start, especially if she was not adverse to frizzy hair and ripped pants.
We got coffees and sat and talked like we hadn't just met and it wasn't awkward, even a little. {And by that, I mean that she wasn't awkward, even a little. Awkward is finely written into my DNA and I can't seem to do anything about it.}
She had to go to class too soon, but before she left I asked her which direction I should go to see something beautiful. She pointed me westward and told me to walk straight, and so I did.
11 comments:
I know in my heart I was meant to live in a big city like New York. Your photos make me long for the cold anonymity and the endless possibilities.
I don't know, I find big cities completely inspiring.
These are beautiful! I don't care about the size of a building - I just love walking around a strange town, staring all around at the architecture.
What is that red wall(?) in the park? Emily's directions were spot on it seems.
i agree. i would just love a little apartment in a big city....
oh, i love little buildings too--just for different reasons!
mmmm....i'm not sure where; i just passed by it on a street in my wanderings!
Ahh you made my city look so magical even on a gloomy rainy day. Part of me keeps wanting to get out of here, this hectic stressful expensive place where the day never ends... so it's nice to view it through the eyes of someone who's still excited about being here!
Your afternoon was SO much cooler than my stats class, promise! Next time, I totally will have to ditch class and play tourist with you. Your photos make the city look gorgeous, even in all that gross rain!
aw! i'll TRADE YOU CITIES!!! :)
your city has so much magic.
how long have you been there for?
please do! it would've been so much fun to hang out more. NEXT TIME. {oh garsh i hope there's a next time...}
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