New York, Wait For Me

Bright lights, thousands of people all rushing to be somewhere, skyscrapers, the smell of coffee and hotdogs and taxi fumes. New York. If youíve ever been there, you can pin-point the exact smell, the people constantly going and never stopping. Thatís what I like about it; the way everyone around you is going 100 miles a minute and they donít stop.
You always hear people talk about how they don't understand why anyone would want to live there. I love New York; in fact, I want to live in New York. I love all the noise and all the people. It's the perfect place to start over. Nobody cares about your past there, nobody even knows your name. You could re-create yourself if you wanted to.
I was 13 when I first went to New York; I went with my best friend Emma. Emma and I are one in the same, but youíd never figure that if you saw us together. She stands a whole 5í11, with short blonde hair and the body of a runway model. I, on the other hand, see the world at a different angle from my 5í1 perspective. I have long blonde hair that almost touches my butt, with the body of a weight lifter. Ask me how we became friends, I could never answer you.
We arrived in New York at about 10 p.m., and we decided to go ahead and get some sight-seeing out of the way. Bad idea. We settled on the Empire State Building, but the 86th floor was even windier and even colder than we had expected. The chill of the air was nipping at our noses. 1,000 pictures later, and we had finally decided that we should grab a bite to eat and turn in for the night.
I woke up that next morning and the first thing I smelled was coffee. Come on, you can't tell me you don't admire the smell of coffee; even people who cannot stand coffee, love the smell of it. This is the one thing Emma and I have in common; the love of coffee. Needless to say, Starbucks was the first place we stopped, after departing from the hotel. I ordered a Caramel Latte, and Emma ordered the same.
The day was filled with shopping bags, the Statue of Liberty, pizza, shopping bags, and taxis. Emma and I probably wound up at each store twice, and the Starbucks about four times. The ride through central park in a horse-led carriage was the best, though. We ate Italian for dinner that night, and we split a cannoli.
After dinner, we returned to our hotel for a movie and showers. The hotel wasn't nasty, but it wasn't five star either. Emma took first shower and I laid out my outfit for the next day. It was supposed to rain most of the day, so I laid out rain boots, skinnies, a long sleeve top and a rain jacket. After we both had taken a shower, we set up the movie.
The weather man was right, the rain was pouring when I woke up the next morning. I put on the outfit I laid out the night before and threw my hair up in a bun. I woke up Emma and started on my make-up. We only had 2 more days in New York, we had to get up and get on it. When I stepped outside, I could smell the rain in the air, a sure sign of spring.
We stopped at Starbucks again for our morning coffee, then headed off to Rockefeller Center. We went to the observation deck, and saw what had seemed to be the whole city. I felt like I was on top of the world, looking down on the entire city. We took 1,000 more pictures and set off for some more shopping. When we began to tire out from all the walking, we stopped and ate at the Hard Rock Cafe. Emma and I split a steak, then ordered ice-cream.
We spent most of the night wandering around Times Square, watching all the people and the street performers. The buildings looked alive, they looked like they were ordinary people just sitting and watching the world in its mysterious ways.
Emma and I had to go to the hotel to pack for tomorrow, we would be leaving to go back home. I didn't want to leave, Emma didn't either. New York was the best thing ever; it was always alive, always running from one thing to another. I guess thatís why they call it the city that never sleeps. If you ever want to get your mind off something, go to New York, you're brain will be running 100 miles a minute.
On the bus back home, Emma and I made a pact: One day when we got out of high school, we would go back to New York and live in an apartment together. We would have pit bulls that lived with us, and we would work to pay the rent.
I still hold Emma to that pact, and she still holds me to mine. New York, wait for us.

M Cornwell

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