Dear New York, I love you

Just before my 19th birthday, I accepted a job in Bedford, New York as the live-in nanny for a very successful couple: a New England blue blood and a former marine. I think they probably started dating because they were the only two people tall enough for each other. She was 6’4” in bare feet (loved heels); he was 6’8”. Working for them, I got to tell people I was moving to New York. People always assume you mean the city, and I didn’t discourage them. On the weekends, or when the family was out of town, I was able to ride the train into NYC and stomp around, visiting the park and museums, places I could explore alone.

My sister came out during spring break that year, and we spent the week eating and shopping and seeing shows. We always left town on the train by sundown, like some reverse vampires, so we didn’t see much of the nightlife. Since we were both still well under 21, it probably didn’t make that much difference. Our week in NYC was spent shopping at stores like 9 & Co. (NineWest’s now-defunct younger sister) and eating at restaurants like Planet Hollywood and the Jekyll and Hyde Club. Like I said, we were under 21 and these seemed like good ideas at the time.

Eleven years later, my tastes have evolved beyond platform sandals and novelty hamburgers. So this trip, I planned different things. New York was happy to oblige. After a bad start with a cancelled flight and a scary ride from LaGuardia, the trip went beautifully. We (sis and I) got to the Plaza. I had wanted to stay there since I saw Big Business (or any other movie about New York in the 80s). We were whisked inside by the doorman, Freddie, who was very nice. At the check-in counter, we were informed that our double room was not available (gasp) but we had been upgraded to a suite (relief). “Unfortunately, that room isn’t quite ready, but please, let’s go over to the Champagne Bar where you can have a drink on us while you wait.” The waiter didn’t hesitate a second when I ordered us two glasses of Veuve Clicquot and popped a brand new bottle just for us.

Just as I reached the bottom of my glass, the phone rang; the room was ready. I apparently didn’t take any helpful pictures of the room.






To be continued...