This Is New York

“....so you get the airbus to Jamaica and then get yourself a metrocard, you want to put around twenty dollars on it then get on the subway E train toward Manhattan for thirteen stops, if you get off there and walk down avenue seven against the traffic for two blocks....”

I stop reading.

“I'll get a taxi.”

“A cab will cost you around seventy. Subway is around seven. Subway will be quicker too. You'll be here in less than an hour.”

“Oh fine!”

Jim has no idea how geographically challenged I am. He assumes I have common sense, and who can blame him, he's only met me a handful of times.

My niece takes a stab at optimism – 'It's a grid system, how lost can you get?' Then she looks at me and sighs. 'You'd manage it somehow. Get a cab.'

I decide to get a taxi from JFK and pay the $70 rather than end up at a Police Station waiting for Jim to come and fetch me. But by the time I collect my luggage and head out in to the -7 weather for a cigarette I'm beginning to think I might be able to handle it. And when I see the queue for cabs I think 'Fuck it. What's the worst that can happen?'

The airbus is easy. I then head in to the subway ignoring the woman on the floor eating a plastic bag and nimbly side stepping a man who is howling at the moon. The subway reminds me of that man in Ghost who screams 'Get off my train!!!!' at the recently deceased Swayze. A woman walks past and smiles at me shyly - 'I love your coat.'

'Thanks!'

The howling man desists and stares at me for a moment before coming over.

'Happy New Year, honey.'

'Happy New Year.'

'Nice coat.'

'...thanks.'

I get on the subway and a huge man grins at me.

'I'm guessing that's a new coat.'

What the....

'Yes it is.'

'I like it. Makes you look like a pimp.'

'That's EXACTLY what I was going for!'

'Job done.'

I sit and start counting the stops. I get to five when a man gets on and starts performing magic tricks. I try to ignore him and concentrate on the stops. At seven a boisterous woman next to me nudges me and screams 'Ain't he good! Look what he's doin' with the card!' I glance up to see a card floating in the air in front of me. I can't see a line and it really does seem to be hovering in the air unassisted.

'How's he doing that?!'

'Magic, girl. It's magic!'

I lose count of the stops. Obviously.

I sit and think for a moment. I could just get off and find a cab. I turn to the young girl next to me.

'If I get off now where am I?'

'Queens. Where you need to be?'

'West 21^st Street.'

'Yeah. Don't get off. Stay with me till 42^nd and I'll get you on the 1 train that'll take you to 23^rd where you can...' I don't know why but my brain just zones out when people start giving me directions.

Her name is Alina and she's a linguistics student. She's shy and sweet and gay and I like her.

She gets me to the right train and says 'Get on train 1. Not 2. Or 3. Just 1. Two stops. Then walk two blocks.....Thea focus.'

'Yes! Sorry...what did you say?'

Jim opens the door.

'I was getting worried. I thought you'd be here two hours ago.'

'There was some magic and a girl called Alina.

'Uhuh.'

'Can I have a drink please?'

'Let's go out.'

We go to a lovely Italian restaurant all candle lit and cosy and as we clink our glasses together I suddenly realise I'm in New York with Jim and a wave of happiness washes over me. He's a tall burly man with a 'fro and kind eyes and it's really good to see him again.

We then head to his local bar and get phenomenally drunk on gin and whiskey.

I meet some of his friends including a fabulous actress called Michelle who's 49 but looks 30. Like a young Kathleen Turner. She tells me she knows Jim from her charity work with the fire department. Jim was a fireman but had to be medically retired after 9/11. Like a lot of people his lungs were fucked from the fall out. He's a painter now, a very talented one, and I love wandering around his apartment looking at the pieces he has on display.

Michelle has asked me to go for brunch with her on her birthday next week. Everyone is insanely friendly.

The remainder of the night is a bit of a blur and I wake up wondering where the fuck I am and why there is a cat wrapped around my neck. (His name is Lucifer by the way. I will probably mention him again.) I remember and catapult out of bed. Leaving Jim to sleep off the whiskey I head out to find coffee and breakfast. A man stops me in the street:

'That is an awesome coat!
'Thanks!'
'You feel nice and warm?'

'I do, I really do.'
'Well great! Have a good day english lady.'
This is New York. I love it.