Since I posted about Los Angeles for the A-Z Challenge it seems only fair to say something about that other city. My daughter has lived in New York for the last two years or so; after she graduated from college it seemed like all of her friends were headed there and she didn’t want to get left behind. But now she’s making plans to return to Los Angeles, the land of no winter and free rent, and I’m feeling a little disappointed because I enjoyed visiting her in NYC. I’d even found an Airbnb in Williamsburg where I liked to stay, near all sorts of cool restaurants and shops and the Bedford L stop.
Going to New York was always an adventure. My daughter was full of ideas, bars and restaurants to try and neighborhoods to explore. I would hang with her and her friends on weekends, staying up till all hours until they were ready to go out to some hipster club and I would (gratefully) get an Uber and head back to my apartment.
Except for one time, when the gang decided to walk to a bar in Greenpoint at midnight on a Saturday night. I got ready to leave but they said, “No, come with us!” and I thought it was probably the beer talking but I rolled along, walking the dark streets of Brooklyn with a bunch of people who were younger than me by about thirty years. When we got to the pub it turned out we were meeting up with the older brother of one of the kids, a nice guy who had just gotten engaged. He and his fiancée took an interest in me, since I was married and all, and I chatted with them, drinking a PBR that someone thrust in my hand, until the youngsters started doing shots and I figured it was time to go.
“You can just walk back to your hotel,” the youth advised me, and I thought that was a pretty bold notion since it was 2:00 am but when I set out I could see that there were busy clubs on every corner, so I just strolled back to Williamsburg, passing one raucous group after another. I felt a little uncomfortable when I passed an old school bar where some folks my age were lurking, sullenly smoking cigarettes and studying me like I was a bizarre interloper, but I powered on. When I got to the hotel I stopped by the bar and found a bunch of cheerful employees who were happy to recommend a New York bourbon, so I had a shot after all.
And that was a New York adventure.
But, as the song says, I love LA, and it’s better to have my daughter nearby than across the country. There’s adventures to be had here, too. She’s bound to find them, and she might even invite me to come along.