I loved New York City from my first visit in early 2008. The city has a distinctively vibrant and infectious energy. I met very nice folks - complete strangers at that - who went out of their way to make it a memorable visit.
My hotel was situated at 65 West 54th Street (at Avenue of the Americas). It was recommended by a friend and their service was impressive. From my 18th floor, I had a bird's-eye view of the street and city activities.
I quickly observed that there was a lady in another grand hotel next to mine and who was on about the same floor. She also shared the habit of frequently looking out through her window. Both hotel buildings were so close that had we leaned out of our windows and stretched our hands, our fingertips might have touched - even if briefly. Sadly, neither of us had such a brain wave or made such friendly efforts to reach out neighbourly fingers. We could, arguably, also have toppled to our deaths with the extreme leaning effort required for such a neighbourly gesture. So, it is good thing we didn't. It is a long way down to the cold and merciless sidewalk concrete from the 18th floor of a high-rise building. Free falling with no safety net - I didn't think that would end well.
But we did share that common passion of staring at the activities taking place on the street below through our parted window blinds - the early morning traffic, bright car headlights, trucks and cars covered with snow, joggers and those taking brisk early morning walks, all kitted up to keep themselves warm against the freezing cold. As she looked out her window - our eyes did frequently meet - even if our fingertips did not. She always returned my stares unabashedly even if she was on most occasions - deliberately flirting you think? - not decent or fully clothed for lack of a better expression.
The cab drivers I met in New York were mostly funny and chatty. They had an endless supply of witty sayings and humorous anecdotes. They had me in stitches with their hilarious but often vulgar stories laced with expletives.
They were really friendly - not quite sure if that was because I was a JJC who was being fleeced by the cab rates and suggested tips - but the warmth and liveliness of their company was nice. They were eager to point out landmarks and the history behind them. They often had a good grasp of world events and politics and spoke knowledgeably.
This was just about the time Barack Obama was sworn in as President of the United States of America - an undeniably epoch-making event! There was a palpable sense of excitement, optimism and celebration in the air. I bought several Obama T-shirts and figurines as souvenirs from shops.
I've so many fond memories of that visit that I have a smile on my face as I reminisce and write this.
During a particular cab ride, I gave the cab driver a hundred dollar bill and waited patiently for my change. To my surprise, the cab driver seemed taken aback.
"Mister," he began looking annoyed. "If I had change for a hundred dollar bill, I won't be here talking to you! I won't be out here driving this cab on such a freaking cold morning. Damn it! I would be at home fucking my wife!"
In order to let him get back home on time and engage in his favourite activity with his wife, I took my money to a nearby shop to buy what I didn't need.
"I'm waiting, mister. I ain't got all day." He rolled his eyes expressively. I had certainly raised his hackles. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth, cupped his hands around it, and lit up. That done he leaned on his cab parked by the sidewalk and puffed away.
I hurried into the nearest shop to get him the right amount for the cab fare. It was a busy shop and I quickly picked some inexpensive items at random and walked to join the queue at the counter.
"Cash or card?" I was queried by the sleepy-eyed attendant. He snapped to full attention mode when I produced my hundred dollar bill.
"Cash," I replied. The attendant appeared as taken aback as the cab driver. He gave me a suspicious appraisal from my head to my snow-ruined, previously favourite black shoes. Apparently not satisfied with his deductions of my person and how I came about having a hundred dollars, he called his supervisor who sauntered over.
The supervisor was briefed of the "situation". He took the offending hundred dollar bill as one might pick up a highly venomous and hissing snake. Then he turned the crisp note this way and that way with a critical eye. Everyone on the queue behind me watched with keen interest and seemingly with bated breaths. Then the towering supervisor turned his uncompromising stare at me. I stared back at him unflinchingly as we engaged in a first-to-blink eyeballing contest. He finally looked away and I was served by the attendant and given my change.
Those are some of the highlights of my first time experience in the Big Apple. I had a fantastic time.
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