But man, have you been to the city? There are people and concerts and food and awesome.
I didn't really spend much time in the city until my college days (and since I was three hours from home, I was only able to take trips into Manhattan on long weekends or vacations), and even then it was generally just to go to a concert and then come right home. But things changed. Post-college I started an internship at a casual games company that had me taking the train in five days a week. Bryan had also recently moved into the city, so I'd hang out with him and he'd show me around every once in a while.
Then I started meeting college friends since it was the easiest place for everybody to go to. Then my friends started moving into the five boroughs. Then Mayra's friends started moving too. By this point my initial disinterest/disdain for the city had eroded into genuine enthusiasm. It's at the point these days where I'm thrilled to spend an evening eating at a whole in the wall, drinking at a dive bar, and wandering the streets.
I'm sounding like a regular member of the bridge and tunnel crowd now.
To go off on a tangent, I should mention that Bryan's a great guy. Have I mentioned this before? He is. One immediate (and related) example of how he's a nice guy is the way he's always letting me know that I can just crash at his place if I'm ever in the city. I had done it a few times when I was working down in Chinatown (I got a whole extra hour of sleep by doing that) but aside from those occasional times that I had planned ahead for, I never had any real crazy nights where I needed a place to stay.
Until the past couple of months, apparently.
On two separate occasions, I wound up having such a great time hopping around from place to place that I crashed at Bryan's when I had planned on coming home instead. The first night involved Dylan and I coming in for dinner on a work night and then hours later coming back home with just enough time to get breakfast and shower before going right back to work. The second night (weeks later) was a milestone, as Mayra was able to stay away from home for the first time in years. We got a little drunk at a party for her friends, grabbed some Papaya Dog, then stumbled back to Bryan's place at three in the morning. Needless to say, it was an awesome time (the morning after on the other hand...)
So anyway, last night Mayra and I were in the city for drinks with her friends yet again. This time, we were good kids and left early to catch the last train back home at around 1:30. And it kind of sucked.
And it's got me thinking: Why are we doing this? The night is just getting started around 12 or 1, and there's nothing worse than having a great time in the city and then having to dedicate an hour and a half to getting back home. Catching the train means missing the second round of drinks, the last act of a concert, or the late night snack. It means being the old folks who need to get home early (even if you still don't get home until late.) It means leaving the city that never sleeps and heading back to the city that went to sleep hours before.
Now I know I'm being silly - it's not like things are so bad here. My job is here. Many of my friends. My family lives here. I can afford the rent here!
And there are plenty of bars and late-night pizza places that are open until 4. It's not like the life of a twenty-something is boring here in the suburbs.
But it's not New York City.
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