This is the start of a purely random evening in NYC. All day at work, I don’t know why, I had felt the urge to do something adventurous. Though I felt tired, I didn’t want to go to my hotel room and do nothing, when this exciting city was screaming for my name.
So I decided to get on with some recommendations from friends. I left the office and walked for what I thought it was going to be a shorter walk but proved to be about thirty minutes. I like walking and plus, it was all in a new area, so I had the chance to just wander around the streets and discover them as I was approaching this Sri Lankan restaurant my friend recommended. Tucked away on a Manhattan street, I found this wagon like little restaurant. To be honest, it seemed kind of shady, but I trusted the recommendation, so I thought I should give it a go. As I sit in the way of the nasty AC, I take a look at the menu and the prawn curry draws my attention. The waiter takes my order and explains the degrees of spice – mild being the lowest. I decide, just to be safe, to go with the mild, I mean…how hot can it be? Well, I guess Sri Lankan food is even spicier than Indian. After just one bite, I decide I can’t have it, so the waiter offers to change the curry and finally I get to eat some food. I wasn’t impressed, but at least now I can say I tried Sri Lankan food. I believe adventure has started with this culinary experience and I decide I should put off the spice with some drinks. I don’t know any bars in the area, but in the spirit of adventure I think I will just enter the first one that seems decent enough. I walk for a few minutes and right across the street I spot a place called Nomad. The name is familiar as one of my favorite bars/clubs in Bucharest has the same one. I consider it’s destiny and I go inside just to find that this is another oriental/ Indian style bar/restaurant. I say to myself – ok, maybe not what I expected but the atmosphere seems nice…I should just go sit at the bar, which is what I am doing. The lady at the bar has a special offer tonight: three types of Sangria – white, red and rose. Interesting, I never had white or rose sangria, let alone have it in an Indian restaurant. I seem quite undecided about the generous offer, so she lets me try the three tastes. I go for the white one with cucumber and some herbs, as I find that’s the most interesting and unknown taste.
I sip on the so called Sangria (which by the way has nothing to do with the original Sangria) and start thinking about what I should do to end the evening in style. The same friend had told me that there’s a cable car in NY, which is actually considered a “tram” that is taking people from Manhattan to Roosevelt Island on the East River.
I leave the white Sangria glass half full and go check out people’s places from the “tram” near Queensborough Bridge. I love the excitement of going to new places and experiencing the city like a local. I felt very proud of myself to have found out about this NYC “secret”. But when I entered the cable car, there were many people taking photos of the view, so I guess I wasn’t the only tourist there.
As I get off the “tram”, there is a nice little deck area with tables and chairs overlooking the river and the bridge. It’s dark now and I can see the lights reflected in the water and as the light shines on my metal table I notice I am joined by a group of ant friends. I don’t need their company now, so I go for a short walk by the river. I end up on another wooden deck amphitheater syle, but this time no chairs or table, I take a seat directly on the deck. There’s not too many people around, which is a huge difference from the chaos and noise of Manhattan. Not much to distract me around here, except for one thing. Just a bit farther away from me there’s a man and a woman sitting next to each other. I am far enough not to hear what they’re talking about, but because I am weird and I enjoy people watching, I start to make up their story in my mind and imagine how they got to this place. I think they started the evening with a light dinner at a Sri Lankan restaurant. They found the food too spicy and not as good as they remembered having it in the past. But at least he got the chicken biryani which wasn’t that bad and big enough so they could both enjoy it. After dinner, they decided to have drinks and try out a bar none of them had been to before. They entered the first one that they came across. They like to try new things and explore the city. This bar served three types of Sangria so they decided to go for the white one. As they talked and talked, sipping on the sangrias, the night was still young. They had both been living in NYC for a while but they never went to Roosevelt Island. What better opportunity than this chill night to get there. They got on the cable car and here we are: on a wooden deck watching the Manhattan skyline. Them not caring about anything else in the world, except for the present, enjoying each other’s company and making great memories.
I love this city and I think this city loves me back, for it has given me so much in such little time.
P.S. This story is mainly fictional. Some of the characters and actions are real.