So… New York, then.
Work went very well… the food was quite nice (only once so nice that it justified the exorbitant prices, but nice enough on the whole)… and…
I like planes.
I greatly enjoyed nearly the entire flight experience.
Planes are lovely… except for when you’re seated next to a guy who feels that it is his divine right to just splay all over the place on your return flight… I paid for an full seat, and I came away with 50%. Only remembering that I was a Christian, and a lady, and about 75 lbs. lighter than the man who had me pinned to the window kept me from issuing a tired, achy, “I-just-want-to-go-home” throat punch.
I honestly didn’t have the best time. There were definitely good moments, but they were the type of moments that I could have had nearly anywhere (with one exception), so I don’t in any way attribute those moments to the city itself.
I sound like an ungrateful pleb, don’t I?
I should be buzzing with FABULOUS experiences of SIGHTSEEING AND SHOPPING AND OTHER (BENIGN) S-WORDS THAT WOULD ILLUSTRATE THE AMAZING TIME I HAD IN THE BIG APPLE!!!!!!!!!
Squee and all that.
In truth, I rather hated New York City, and not just because I managed to get my cell phone filched on the very first day, although that does set a somewhat negative tone.
In the marketing for New York, you always see people walking around on very lightly populated streets (unless it’s New Years Eve)… there’s a reason why they never snap a shot of the every day Times Square stampede. Our hotel was situated smack dab in the middle of the Square, which is notoriously chaotic and drowning with people who walk directly at you as if you do not exist. Stepping out of the doors of the expensive hamster wheel that served as our accommodations meant subjecting oneself to being breathed on, pushed, squashed, and generally molested by complete strangers. If you enjoy any notion of personal space, that notion is ripped from you immediately open stepping out into the street. I mentioned before that I was not particularly interested in seeing the sights in NYC (no offense to the sights themselves, of course) … after a few days, I did think that I would like to see Mood Fabrics, but I couldn’t do it without wading through (probably) thousands of people. During a trip on the subway, I was literally booted by a man who seemed to think that I wasn’t moving fast enough.
I probably wasn’t.
I was probably going into a fugue state.
I also wasn’t comfortable going out by myself, and before anyone mentions that I’m an introvert and don’t mind being alone, I will say that being in a crushing crowd does not qualify as being alone. If I’m going to be trapped in a mob, I would prefer having a companion.
You know, someone with a cellphone who can call 911 when I get hit by taxi or have a psychotic break.
Everything was very expensive, and expensive solely on the merits of location, not because of quality. We had a running joke during the week that we could have stayed at Hampton Inn, had a room of comparable quality and, at the very least, had a free continental breakfast and free WiFi. Not having an excess of disposable income, I didn’t go shopping, and came home with nary a souvenir (and nary a cellphone, but that’s just bitterness talking).
To avoid being a complete downer, I will mention that I had oodles of free time, which I spent curled up on the small settee in my room, reading books, drinking tea (the hotel believes in Twinings) and watching Headline News. It was quite relaxing, and probably kept me sane. My biggest worry in those moments was that I was going to get lambasted by a horde of people for “wasting” a trip to NYC.
I left a small piece of my soul at the best restaurant in the history of eateries… Churrascaria Platforma (a Brazilian Rodizio restaurant). It was beautifully decorated, the wait staff was lovely (this was the first time in my life that I was assisted with my chair), the salad bar was insane (sushi on the salad bar, people!) and then the staff brought out the meats.
Glorious, glorious meats.
I stopped listening when the servers would tell me what kind of meat they were serving… I just pretty much said yes to everything, while weeping sweet, sweet tears of joy.
I informed my boss that, after this, he would never have to pay me again.
Of course, the next time we waded out into the sea of blood-thirsty tourists I took that sentiment back, but in the moment, my declaration was quite moving.
Oh, and I had a pitch perfect Creme Brulee for dessert.
I could have died, peacefully, quite full, and well dressed.
All in all, I don’t think I would consider NYC a good vacation spot for me, and when we return next year for our business event, I shall come armed with more books, considerably more money, and perhaps a friend.
I’d like to have a cellphone with me as well.
Handy things, cellphones.
New York City owes me a phone.