Backpacking While Black

New York City, March 2006: Day 1, March 14, 2006, New York City, NY (Times Square, "The Producers," Chelsea)

As we arrived into Newark this was the first time I felt that I was just passing through. New Jersey doesn’t hold me as “home” anymore. Actually, I don’t think it ever did. It’s not where my heart is. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my Jersey accent, love for pizza and the feeling of nostalgia while watching the Sopranos, but I enjoy calling Lithonia, GA home even more. I love the South’s pace of life, the people and the feeling of hope that I have everyday. I could have that feeling of hope anywhere, but it’s more apparent in GA. Looking at an unwelcoming sky, it was fitting for a native son, who has officially turned his back to his once called homeland, but the New York City skyline beckoned in the distance and so the vacation had begun.

After a bumpy decent, my friend Matthew and I arrived at Newark Liberty International Airport, down the street from my old home in Nutley, NJ. Newark is still the same after all these years, but we weren’t staying around to see if anything was different. We were just passing through. The airport is situated 30 minutes outside of downtown New York City by train. For that reason, the train became our primary mode of transportation. For $14 one can get a train ticket connecting Newark Airport Rail Link station to New York’s Pennsylvania Station (Penn. Station). It sounds pricey for a train ticket, but it is worth it compared to a taxi, rental car or bus ride. After 30 minutes of clanking along tracks and through tunnels we emerged at Penn. Station, not as grand as Grand Central Station, but still a major point for all those destined for the Big Apple.

Since this trip was on a tight budget, we couldn’t afford the more expensive tourist luxury hotels, but we found the next best thing-hostel accommodations at The Chelsea Star Hotel (300 West 30^th Street and Eight Avenue). The hotel is three blocks south of Penn. Station and 12 blocks south of Times Square, but everything is still within walking distance. The Chelsea Star Hotel doesn’t classify itself as a hostel, but most of its rooms share a bathroom and they have three dormitory style rooms for $25 per person per night. I tried to stay in hostels during my first trip to Europe in 2002, but opted for cheap hotels. This was my first time sharing a room and a bathroom with four total strangers. I admit I was a little nervous, so I decided to do a preemptive strike. Every person that came in the room, I greeted warmly and struck up a conversation. It was my way of building trust instead of saying “please don’t steal my stuff.”

I met a young couple from Iowa who were in NYC for the week to see the sites. I also had the fortune of running into two students from the University of Arkansas in NYC for a college newspaper conference. Matthew, I and the UA students struck up a dialogue quickly. I guess writers are glad to see that they aren’t alone in their struggle to get recognition. Matthew and I had a ton excitement for the first few hours upon our arrival to NYC, but as soon as the room became quiet, Matthew was snoring and I was fighting sleep. I tend to move around and try to distract myself, but after my head hit the pillow with the bed facing an open window to an unusually warm March day, I was out.

We awoke a few hours later refreshed and ready to explore Times Square. We knew Times Square was due north along 8^th Ave. so we started walking until we hit something. It’s hard not to be a tourist when you enter Times Square. Before you enter the main part of the square you start to feel this excitement, almost a rush of energy. Everybody around you, who’s not a working New Yorker, has a smile starting to creep across their faces and as they get closer the smile turns to a dumbfounded, open-mouthed expression of sheer glee. The lights, sounds and sheer size of the buildings almost make it seem like a dream, but as soon as you reach out your hand to touch the MTV studios building, the Reuters building, Toys R Us and other famous landmarks, you realize that this is all real. We tilled around for a minute taking everything in and to also look for a Bank of America and Wachovia ATM to get cash for a hotdog. This would be Matthew’s first NYC hotdog (actually a polish sausage, but it’s still in NYC). I’ve had hotdogs in NYC before, but seeing him enjoy it brought back the memory of my dad buying me my first NYC hotdogs on a class trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art back in the fifth grade. That memory always makes me miss him.

After the hotdogs we ducked into Toys R Us on Times Square, the self titled “Center of the Toy Universe.” This was my second time in the store, but I still acted like it was my first time, especially looking at the X-Box 360, Family Guy and Transformer displays. After almost an hour we emerged from the store to try to catch the remnants of TRL at the MTV studios, but we missed it. We settled on the next best thing, the Virgin Music Megastore. Personally, nothing shocks me about warehouse style music stores. They all carry the same thing; it’s what you’re looking for that matter most. We weren’t looking for anything in particular, so we went through it rather quickly.

We had originally come to NYC to see Broadway shows, so we went off in search of our first show, “The Producers” at the St. James Theatre. The comedy is from the mind of Mel Brooks (“Spaceballs,” “Robin Hood: Men in Tights”) and originally starred Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick. Unfortunately, Mel, Nathan and Matthew were not in attendance, but the show was still a riot. It’s about two producers who come up with a scheme to raise millions to produce a flop, but the show becomes a success thus putting an end to the scheme. Dancing Nazis, a girlish Hitler and one Third Reich saluting pigeon couldn’t stop the audience from laughing till they cried both in the play and in the theatre. Simply put, I loved it!

We left the theatre for the hotel in order to change for a dinner out on the town. We chose to stay close to Chelsea and see what this fabled area held. The Chelsea district of NYC is named after the Chelsea piers south of West 23^rd Street on Manhattans southwestern side. It’s known for being a gay leaning area, but from the looks of things it was rather tame. The hotel concierge, Rasean, recommended a “cute” place called Cafeteria for dinner on Seventh Ave. and 19^th Street. I don’t like using the word cute to describe restaurants, but I soon agreed with Rasean’s description. We searched for a place that resembled a cafeteria style restaurant, but were pleasantly surprised to find a posh, but comfortably "cute" establishment that looked straight out of “Sex in the City.”

Cafeteria (119 Seventh Avenue) specializes in comfort food served 24-hours in a trendy atmosphere akin to the surrounding Chelsea district. The exterior is very unassuming, but as soon as you step inside you’re hit with warm browns and creams bathed in candlelight with large white couches serving as the wall seating. For a Tuesday night, the place was packed, but we were able to find a seat in five minutes. We weren’t that hungry from snacking throughout the day so we ordered light, so we thought. I ordered a bowl of the pumpkin bisque served with toasted walnuts. Matthew, as usual, ordered calamari. Both entrees were served with crusty French table bread. Once our order arrived we were shocked by the large portions. It was enough for us to skip entrees and head straight for dessert. Now, I’m a huge fan of bisques, especially the pumpkin, sweet potato, lobster and crab varieties. This variation was the smoothest I’ve ever tasted and the sweetest. They must’ve double strained the bisque and added condensed milk instead of heavy cream, so my appetizer seemed like a dessert as well. Doubling my pleasure, I shared a brownie sundae with Matthew which wasn’t as good as the bisque, but was still a nice way to top off our first dinner in NYC.

With our bellies full including two rather strong drinks each from the bar, Matthew and I headed back out into the night to see what else Chelsea had to offer. For most of this trip we relied on the recommendations of locals, waiters and concierges. Before leaving, we asked our waiter about any good spots to hang out, drink and dance in the area. He recommended a few clubs, but he talked up one the most, XL (357 W. 16th St., between Eighth and Ninth Avenues). We thanked him and stepped out into the night.

We found out that XL was a gay club, so we avoided it and went to a place recommended by a well-dressed group of young tourist, Lotus (409 W. 14th St., between Ninth and Tenth Avenues). Lotus fulfilled my fantasy of a cool New York hotspot with beautiful people, beautiful décor and beautiful drinks. It’s a narrow, but lofty place with the main bar lining the whole right side of the space and lounge chairs lining the left. The DJ sits perched above the madness in a brightly lit command center where he can gauge the crowd and receive the occasional request shouted across the room. The second floor covers the right side only, but is a quieter more secluded area for conversation and high altitude people watching. The music was mostly NYC hip-hop infused with a few pop songs, but as the evening wore on the music turned to the Dirty South. Ludacris started everything off, which is fine with me, but “Shake that Laffy Taffy” soon followed and I was angry for the rest of the night. Again, don’t get me wrong, I like Southern hip-hop. It’s catchy, but I came to NYC to get away from that and experience the Northern style of my youth. I guess popularity doesn’t follow geography. Southern hip-hop is hot now. I just know that I rather prefer Biggy Smalls than 36 Mafia.

We stayed in Lotus until 3 a.m. I was about to hail a cab back to the Chelsea Star, but Matthew stopped me because he wanted to walk back. I reminded him that it was 3 a.m. in downtown NYC. Is it safe?!? He apparently thought so because we braved 16 blocks and 20 degree Fahrenheit wind chill. It was worth it though. I never thought NYC could get so quiet. There was light traffic, but the city had this hush over it that I couldn’t explain. I guess even New Yorkers have to sleep. We got back to our rooms safe and sound, and with my fear of late-night NYC conquered. That was a good foreshadow for the rest of the trip because many of my misconceptions of late-nights in major cities were thrown out and replaced with great memories.

posted by Dre' @ 3/14/2006 01:36:00 AM