Happy Hour
For years, I’ve been trying to put into words what it is about NYC that thrills me so. And I’m finally finding them. It’s that something unpredictable around every corner. It’s the energy – energy I want to be a part of. So simple.
Ny is expensive no matter what. But it’s even more expensive to leave your apartment. Especially if you’re a foodie. But if you don’t leave your apartment you can’t the part of the buzz.
I’ve tried to stock up at Trader Joes and vow to cook, but then I look out my window and suddenly I’m making reservations.
Thing is as soon as four people order a round of drinks it’s $100. And so, not just because I don’t mind going to bed at 9PM this days, I’ve embraced the art of the Happy Hour. 4pm to 6pm. The $2 oysters, the baby sliders, the mini martinis. That should surly cut a bill.
I went yesterday. With daughter, father-in-law and Peter, a co-writer with whom I worked furtively 30 years ago when it wasn’t a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am songwriting culture. When publishers were sending songs out and they actually got us on records. Yikes. Another lifetime.
I can’t figure out why our check was close to $400. How did that happen? This is Happy Hour! Too many mini martinis. And I guess those oysters add up. Yeesh. Still, this is New York. Can’t kill my happy.
And then the server brings the gadget over and turns her head while I poke at the tip amount. My options start at 22%. What happened to 20? Listen, I was a waitress for eons. If everyone I tipped me 20% I was good. And don’t cry inflation because 20% on inflated prices is going to be a way higher tip. Anyway … still happy.
Of course, I can sit in a park for free and revere the cherry blossoms, which I do. I can visit John at Imagine. I do that too. I can go to Governors Island. Who knew it was even a thing? When I was 20 or 30 I never cared. Now I’m curious. Now, I don’t want to leave any part of NYC uncharted. So I went. With my friend Val. We took the ferry. We rode bikes. We bowed to the Statue of Liberty from the other side. Apologized to her and begged her not leave.
And running. By a river. This I can do for free. I take two Advil, fill my water bottle, slip in my orthotics, lace up my Hokas and … trot as opposed to run. But, I have to watch the 20, 30 and 40 somethings whiz by, which makes me 😡. Especially because I’m a New York marathon veteran, albeit 30 years ago. I swear, if it wasn’t for my knee, I could run another.
Even the dogs. They’re ecstatic to be out with their friends. They’re feeling a dog-buzz for sure.
And then there’s sitting on a bench by the Hudson River as another day is winding down. And your work is done. And you’re so grateful to still be here. Soooo happy.
Granted I’ve found unique wonders on the West Coast. The hiking. The Zen. I do not have a favorite coast. What I prefer is the back-and-forth of it all. The buzz then the peace then the buzz again then the peace.
I’ll take this city, however I can get it for as long as I can have it. I’m embracing the buzz that I’ve missed for so many years of not living here, after living here for so long. I’m vibrating my ass off.
