On the shuttle train home now, and I think how lucky I am to not have to think about designating a driver for a night out. I am thankful for eclectic bars where I can headbang to Black Sabbath while sipping on a stiff whiskey and ginger and nibble on a slice of mushroom and roasted garlic pizza I brought from Rosco’s in Brooklyn to this Manhattan bar called The Magician. If I ever decide to move on to a new adventure, what I would miss most is the late night cuisine culture of Manhattan.
After a long day at work and an even longer evening braving the throngs of paycheck recipients at Bed, Bath, and Beyond and Target, we decide on a slice before heading to a farewell party. I smiled when I saw a hipster and his gal bus their own table because the pizza parlor staff was so very busy.
At the bar, we saw old friends and made new ones. After a long night of drinking, I wanted to stop at CreperieNYC for a midnight (literally) snack. It had been my go-to late night snack spot in the Lower East Side since 2002. I was glad to see that it was packed. We sat near the crepe griddles and chatted with our crepe artist for the evening, Hana. Hana and my husband chatted in Hebrew while I listened and took little bites of my ham and cheese crepe, savoring each morsel – appreciative that it wasn’t Swiss cheese. Where else but in NYC could you have a 1AM discussion about linguistics with someone you just met excluding college/grad school?
Upon disembarking the shuttle, voices beckon our attention. My grad schoolmate/current neighbor and her best friend had just arrived from out of town on the same shuttle, so we slowly made our ways home as we chatted. A small town feel with all of the convenience of a metropolis and the suburbs within a 10-mile radius of home.
Why, yes! That is a photo of the stripmall parking lot in Brooklyn, not somewhere in Texas. Thank you, NYC, for reminding me why I put up with the noise and the humans.
Stereotype Rebel 