My New Girlfriend

In movies, when people move to New York, there always seems to be this magical montage of everything all at once - wheels splashing through puddles, cigarettes departing hardened lips, blurred colorful lights, tower after tower after statue after bridge after sweeping air shot of a certain park... I'm not saying these things aren't New York - they all are in their own, mass-individual way. New York is a great actress in thousands of movies: charismatic and sad, shiny and drab. You can't take your eyes off her. I had the feeling like I was meeting a famous movie star when I drove the U-Haul over the Verrazano Bridge on that foggy night in September- my heart beating fast and my words all a-jumble.

While she's still beautiful and surprising to me every day I live here, she's also showing me her other sides. Her drinking habits and her ugly bits. Her dirty past and the fact that she is physically and financially sinking, the weight of hundreds of buildings along with America's ever-present burdens on her shoulders. But just when I've had one too many pleas for food from dirty hands outstretched, one too many unbearable farts on the crowded subway, one too few friendly acknowledgements on the street, she up and surprises me with an incredible view from a different vantage point, a flirtatious smile on the bus, a $20 bill lying lonesome on the sidewalk in front of my apartment. Just when her dark corners seem to be as dark and frightening as they could possibly be, she lets the sunlight shine on angles off glass paneled skyscrapers at the right time of day and I'm blinded by her glamour, her serenity, her perfection...

When I see her on the big screen, I still get that giddy "look, there she is!" feeling welling up in my stomach.