Vignette: New York Nostalgia

[shiredancer]

I'm up to Episode 11 of Queer As Folk on my recently-purchased DVDs (oh, I lurve that show). This was the one when Justin ran off to New York City. So now it's 12:30 a.m. and I'm restless and can't sleep, and angsty and nostalgic and need to start this month's Happy Pills tomorrow, and that means it's a good time for a "writerly" post. This one is about the time I ran off to New York.



At the end of my summer in Europe in 1978 I was possessed by the mad desire to keep on travelling, to not go home, and to not be safe, so I exchanged my California return ticket for one to New York. I knew absolutely no one there, though I had a cousin I'd not met since childhood and so at least had an address to go to. I'd given up my job and apartment in golden Santa Barbara and had nothing, really, to go back to -- so why not have an adventure?

Needless to say, being the complete yokel/greenhorn/doofus that I was, the very first thing that happened to me upon arrival was a famous New York cab ride. Two cabbies, not just a driver, up front, claiming a transportation strike, and packing in about four customers, presumably all as dumb as I was. What did I know for cabs? We don't use them in Southern California; we drive multiple cars, constantly. So in I went, glad that I'd found a cab in the midst of this terrible strike. They let them all out at their stops until only I was left. Then they told me I'd gotten in at the wrong place, they had to cross burroughs, they shouldn't be doing this but as a great favor... etc. And then we drove. And drove. And drove. They asked if I'd get out and go to bars with them; I said no, smiling politely. We went through what I now know was Spanish Harlem, where a staggering woman in the middle of the street stuck her head in at the driver's open window, said something in Spanish, and laughed maniacally. The driver laughed equally hard and said "She just told me she's going to slit my throat!" My smile was cracking a little at the edges. We kept driving; they threatened to drop me off in the middle of what looked like a very bad part of town because they were crossing past their territory, or some such bullshit. After almost an hour of aimless driving, they asked again if I wouldn't go into a bar with them. I said no, now close to tears -- I'd caught on. They finally took me to my cousin's address near the Bowery (it should have taken ten minutes, tops) and allowed me to retrieve my backpack after I'd given them my last $40 for the pleasure.

That cab ride said "Welcome to New York" bigger than any lights on Broadway.

And you know, I've always considered myself very, very fortunate for it. I could have learned that lesson in a much rougher way; as it is, I learned from the get-go what a very naive California girl was up against. When my cousin let me in I was a puddle of tears and humiliation, and she immediately decided I was hopeless. She figured three days and I'd be out. That helped too, because there is a spunky core in me that accepts a challenge.

It took awhile, but I fell in love with that city. I stayed a year, and cried as hard when I left as I had upon my arrival. Some angsty middle-of-the-night I'll spin another New York yarn, but perhaps for now I can get some sleep.

Comments

((((((((((Sally))))))))))

[chrystimd.livejournal.com]

Just beautiful, girl. Thank you, and I hope you got some sleep.

My Baltimore experience wasn't quite that harsh, but similar culture shock and similar resolve, although mine melted and disappeared rather quicker than yours.

I love you, and I'm glad you are who you are.

Re: ((((((((((Sally))))))))))

[chrystimd.livejournal.com]

Not that your resolve disappeared, I only meant you outlasted me. Sheesh. I need caffeine.

Yeah

[haleth.livejournal.com]

That sounds like New York, and to some extent any large city.

And on the one hand, it is a very cool and exciting and wonderful place to be... on the other, well - scary. I like to visit. Wouldn't want to live there.

(((((Sally))))) I'm glad you were able to enjoy it, after that interesting initial experience.

*smooches*
Haleth

When I grow up...

[who-took.livejournal.com]

I want to be as brave and adventurous as Sally.

I love your stories, grrl. Thanks for sharing, and more, please?

Re: When I grow up...

[shiredancer.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Who. That is high praise indeed! And as for brave and adventurous, my dear, you already are: you have three kids, you homeschool, and you write... really write, beautiful strong writing aimed at getting published. That is more bravery and adventure than I could ever take on. You go, grrrl.

Re: Yeah

[shiredancer.livejournal.com]

Ah, so you've been there too! I've not been back since; I occasionally have dreams about returning. I'd like to visit again, although I hear it has changed dramatically in the intervening years.

Thanks, love! *smooch*

Re: ((((((((((Sally))))))))))

[shiredancer.livejournal.com]

Thank you for your encouraging words, love! Yes, culture shock for us small town girls is really something, isn't it? You'll have to tell me more about Baltimore sometime, too.

Love you! *smooch*

I was born there

[haleth.livejournal.com]

But left when I was 2, and left driving distance of it when I was 3. But extended family still lives around there, works there, and every few years I go back to visit and generally spend a day or two in the city if I can manage it. It's so huge and dirty and noisy and the people are rude and don't look at you... very different from how I'd choose to live. But the museums are fabulous, and the food is good... lots to see. Kinda fun but really uncomfortable at the same time. I can handle it in small doses.