New York Minute
Although I’ve lived in NYC for 2 years, I’ve never actually worked here because I’m always travelling around the country to visit my customers. My recent customer was in New York City, however, so for the first time ever I was working in my own city. I got to wake up in my own bed, catch the subway at rush hour, meet friends after work, and generally just treat every minute like a New York minute.
Working in NYC means wearing stuffy work clothes in a crowded subway car, walking fast everywhere, lining up for 20 minutes for a chopped salad, and pushing through slow people that crowd the footpath while being convinced that they’re the ones being jerks. I’ve gone native, though, so none of this shocks me anymore.
My customer was on the 48th floor, and the elevator was a super-optimised double-decker that ran express for the first 46 floors, causing ears to pop and making the whole car shake from the speed. The height was worth it, though, because the building was taller than most of the surrounding ones in Midtown. From the boardroom of the 48th floor, I was able to gaze over the streets, the buildings and Central Park. It was possibly the nicest vantage point I’d yet seen for scoping out this big city. If I was ready to give up travelling and work at a normal desk job, this might have been my kind of place.