Friday in the Big City
All week, here in Big City Like No Other, it's been hard to get around, what with the start of the UN General Assembly. Every time I tried to get somewhere, it seemed like whatever bus I was on got stuck in front of some traffic blockade caused by a very important person--such as President Obama--about to cross in front of us. One of my coworkers came in one day full of the news that he had seen the President's motorcade and limousine go by on Park Avenue the night before, after waiting amongst the crowds behind the barricades. He told us how he had talked to a man who remembered seeing President Kennedy and his entourage driving down 59th St., back in the day.
The atmosphere in the city has felt festive but a little tense also. Walking toward the water (I work way downtown, near Battery Park) at lunchtime one day with a coworker, we saw people protesting, speaking in another language. Although the undercover cops clustered on the corner jovially insisted that nothing in particular was going on in Big Fancy High-Rise Hotel nearby, we figured out that the protesters were raising their voices against the government of their country, whose delegation was staying in Fancy Hotel.
Tonight my sister stopped by my office after work. She was in the neighborhood and we decided to go out and have a relaxing early-evening drink or some dinner to celebrate the end of the week and a beautiful early fall evening. After some vacillation about where to go, we fixed on the cocktail lounge of Big Fancy Hotel. The cocktail lounge is on a high floor and has a spectacular view of the Hudson River. We made our way over there. The protesters were long gone, but clearly the delegation was still there, because we had to go through airport-like security to enter the hotel. But the hotel staff was jolly and welcoming, once we got past the security, which was set up in a white little tent outside the hotel. We were even given free bottles of water and bags of potato chips. Courtly men in nice-looking uniforms held doors for us. "Good evening, ladies . . . . "Welcome, ladies," we heard again and again. We enjoyed that. When we got inside, though, we were cruelly disappointed to find that the high-floor cocktail lounge had been closed as of about two months ago. We didn't find out why.
We opted for plan B, which was dinner sitting outside at a most delightful restaurant on the edge of a grassy square that overlooks New York Harbor and the Statue of Liberty, in one of the beautiful parks that is maintained by a semi-private conservancy. It was a little windy, but the light and the view of the water were lovely, and I had my orange pashmina shawl, my "office shawl," which I had grabbed as we went out becuase I hadn't brought a jacket with me to work. We had some wine, and delicious food, and bantered with the oh-so-suave waiters. My sister took pictures of the sunset. When we first got our wine, and were toasting, I said, "To the end of summer," which was meant to be a joke because we had said that at the last few such evenings together. My sister said, "I think we've sent the summer off already. We should toast to fall." So we did.
And indeed, once the sun was no longer a sphere but a splash of fiery red over New Jersey, the air began to get chilly. Fortunately, we were finishing dessert (recommended by one of the suave waiters: "would you like some HOT chocolate cake--with ice cream"?) by the time that happened.
My sister lives in Brooklyn, too, but farther out than I do. It was but a minute's work to cajole her into taking the express bus (my favorite) rather than the subway. I got off the bus before her, and waved to her as the bus pulled away.
I started walking the block and a half or so to where I live, clutching my orange shawl around me because I was a little cold. It was almost dark but not quite. Oddly, two different people (whom I didn't know) said hello to me as I was walking up the street: first, a young woman in a black leather jacket, who said, "How are you?" as we passed each other, then an older guy walking his dog, who said "Hello!" It was strange but rather pleasant, almost like a dream. I thought, is it the orange shawl?
So, that was my evening, the end to a long and busy week. Now it's almost midnight. Time to call it quits--evening and week.
The atmosphere in the city has felt festive but a little tense also. Walking toward the water (I work way downtown, near Battery Park) at lunchtime one day with a coworker, we saw people protesting, speaking in another language. Although the undercover cops clustered on the corner jovially insisted that nothing in particular was going on in Big Fancy High-Rise Hotel nearby, we figured out that the protesters were raising their voices against the government of their country, whose delegation was staying in Fancy Hotel.
Tonight my sister stopped by my office after work. She was in the neighborhood and we decided to go out and have a relaxing early-evening drink or some dinner to celebrate the end of the week and a beautiful early fall evening. After some vacillation about where to go, we fixed on the cocktail lounge of Big Fancy Hotel. The cocktail lounge is on a high floor and has a spectacular view of the Hudson River. We made our way over there. The protesters were long gone, but clearly the delegation was still there, because we had to go through airport-like security to enter the hotel. But the hotel staff was jolly and welcoming, once we got past the security, which was set up in a white little tent outside the hotel. We were even given free bottles of water and bags of potato chips. Courtly men in nice-looking uniforms held doors for us. "Good evening, ladies . . . . "Welcome, ladies," we heard again and again. We enjoyed that. When we got inside, though, we were cruelly disappointed to find that the high-floor cocktail lounge had been closed as of about two months ago. We didn't find out why.
We opted for plan B, which was dinner sitting outside at a most delightful restaurant on the edge of a grassy square that overlooks New York Harbor and the Statue of Liberty, in one of the beautiful parks that is maintained by a semi-private conservancy. It was a little windy, but the light and the view of the water were lovely, and I had my orange pashmina shawl, my "office shawl," which I had grabbed as we went out becuase I hadn't brought a jacket with me to work. We had some wine, and delicious food, and bantered with the oh-so-suave waiters. My sister took pictures of the sunset. When we first got our wine, and were toasting, I said, "To the end of summer," which was meant to be a joke because we had said that at the last few such evenings together. My sister said, "I think we've sent the summer off already. We should toast to fall." So we did.
And indeed, once the sun was no longer a sphere but a splash of fiery red over New Jersey, the air began to get chilly. Fortunately, we were finishing dessert (recommended by one of the suave waiters: "would you like some HOT chocolate cake--with ice cream"?) by the time that happened.
My sister lives in Brooklyn, too, but farther out than I do. It was but a minute's work to cajole her into taking the express bus (my favorite) rather than the subway. I got off the bus before her, and waved to her as the bus pulled away.
I started walking the block and a half or so to where I live, clutching my orange shawl around me because I was a little cold. It was almost dark but not quite. Oddly, two different people (whom I didn't know) said hello to me as I was walking up the street: first, a young woman in a black leather jacket, who said, "How are you?" as we passed each other, then an older guy walking his dog, who said "Hello!" It was strange but rather pleasant, almost like a dream. I thought, is it the orange shawl?
So, that was my evening, the end to a long and busy week. Now it's almost midnight. Time to call it quits--evening and week.
posted by Sarah Sometimes at 10:44 PM
2 comments
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