I stepped off the train and onto the concrete platform. There was no one around. A few individuals disembarked but nothing worth noting. I looked in my purse once to find my jazz cigarettes and the few dollars I had left. My stomach was empty but my heart was full of confidence. There was nowhere to go but the sidewalks that blessed the shoes that graced it once before. My arrival was met with the sound of a christening trumpet. It played slow and soulful to where it was able to glide down the street and through the alleyways able to caress the listener with every lilting note. It was pure bliss.
I climbed the steps up onto the main road. The empire state carved itself into the skyline with each stair ascended becoming more and more clear in the early morning light. The night was just finishing up on the grave shift. A digital clock adorned the awning out front with various news and ticker symbols: 4:30 AM. The street wasn't too busy but as they say, the city never sleeps, and there were some walking swiftly past as if they had somewhere important to be. I always wondered what drove everyone in this town to just keep moving at a rapid pace, and then I remembered people trample each other the day after thanksgiving to get a TV or some other overvalued materialistic thing.
The rumbling inside me was deafening. I was able to sleep for a few hours whilst the train transported me to this new yet familiar dimension and the requirement of nutrients was more than evident. I strolled down the avenue soaking in the early sun barely peaking over the horizon. It cast this shadow over the towers that adorned midtown that I can only describe as melting. My mind had already did enough of that to begin with, but this wasn't the time to reminisce about stepped-on-toes and shoulda-coulda-wouldas.
A little corner pizza shop named Tony's was just a block away with a one dollar sign out front. One dollar pizza in New York probably isn't the New York slice your sleepy little country town mind thinks of when it hears the idea of such, but it's as real as it gets when you're a starving artist like me.
I walk into the shop and the aroma of fresh basil and warm melty cheese caresses my senses bringing me back to when my mother use to make it fresh in her kitchen. I order a slice of only their finest cheese pizza and exchange the George Washington. The boy working in the back kept looking at me. His expression was so blank that I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I smiled at him once and grabbed my cheesy tomato bread.
A little patio table sat nicely out front for a conversation to be enjoyed should the chance arise. I seated myself and nibbled at my slice. It was flat, warm and above all, empathetic to the long journey I had just finished. And I was about to embark on another one. I was peppering the slice when the world decided to put a surprise on the same plate.
The boy working in the back came outside and said "hello". I returned the friendly gesture. He was a skinny Italian boy in his early 20's. "I couldn't help but notice you dropped something when you were trying to pay for your food". He opened his hand with one of my spliffs in it. I was shocked and a little embarrassed that not only did I drop one but that someone else found it. Stigma with grass is different with everyone and I never know if someone is going to be cool or call the fuzz on me. "Forgive me" he said "I know what it's like to lose stuff like this." which relieved my stress on the situation. I laughed and thanked him for his honesty. He was about to go back inside when a feeling overcame me. I'm not sure what caused it but I couldn't let him go.
"Do you have a second?" I asked innocently. His eyes widened with surprise and confusion.
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to enjoy this with me?"
"Hell yeah I will!"
He removed his apron and sat down with me. I sparked it and passed it to him.
"This is mighty nice of you" He said exhaling.
"Well your honesty is what sparked my interest. Most people would have either ground scored it or thrown it away."
We both smiled at each other as we passed it back and forth.
"I'm Tony" He said.
"Alison" I replied.
We small talked for a while and then he asked if I was from here. I told him my situation at the present. He worked some balls up and asked me what I was doing later.
"I don't know." I said. "I might have a couple things going on" (which I really didn't)
"Oh well my buddy is having a party at his place in Brooklyn tonight if you'd like to come."
The idea intrigued me. I had nothing better to do. Perhaps it would give me a place to crash as well. I agreed and he gave me his number. Tony seemed pretty nice, especially his honesty which really struck a chord with me. Even if something goes wrong, I know my way out of a jam. He had to get back to work so we parted ways. I was only in New York for an hour or so and so far I've been invited to do things. I must be doing something right.