Personal Narrative: A Day In My Favorite City

Stepping out of Port Authority, I watched the city for a moment. I absorbed everything. I missed the town for the several months that had passed since my last visit. I smelled the toasted, sugary nuts from street vendors, I heard the cab horns honking, I watched people cross streets all together in a mob, as soon as the red hand changed to a walking person. I listened to people saying hello, and people saying goodbye to each other outside of the bus station. I watched a cab pass with an ad for the Chicago Broadway show on top of it. I knew that I was finally back in my favorite town.

Immediately after getting out of the bus, we spent an hour or so showing Phil, my boyfriend and a “New York Virgin”, the most touristy parts of the city; Times Square, the Statue of Liberty (from a distance), and the many street performers. When we’d had enough of the mobs of people, we hopped into a typical Manhattan cab, asking our foreign driver to take us to The Met. We pulled up to that great walk of stairs, and got out of the taxi. Walking up the stairs, and into the museum, my excitement could hardly be contained. I could not wait to see enter the huge stone building. After security and “donating” for our entrance, we walked into the first section of the museum, each one of us prepared to stand in awe of the amazing artwork. The ancient tarnish of the Egyptian artifacts only added to their beauty. Hawks made out of jade, stone tombs, and painted hieroglyphics all caught my eye as we made our way through the Middle Eastern passageway. Awaiting us after the Egyptian room was the hall of Tibetan arms and armor, the exhibit that proved to be my mom’s favorite. Old displays of full body armor for humans and steed alike stood guard everywhere. Lini...

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...ck and from the people in the store. My mom and I went to look at dresses, while Phil looked at tee shirts. We all found a few things we decided to buy, all one of a kind. Notably, a vintage shirt quoting “¡bésame!,” a tank top from the 1998 Zucchini Festival employing a white squirrel as its logo, and sunglasses that looked like they belonged to Jerry Garcia.

Unfortunately, after our museum visit, hookah café lunch, and shopping hours, our adventure in Manhattan had to end. We took a cab the 40 something blocks back up to Port Authority, and boarded a bus back to Coopersburg. Riding through the city back home, I watched the landscape gradually change from the skyscrapers, cabs, and pedestrians, to farms, Priuses, and minivans. It made me sad to have to watch my favorite city speed past my helpless self, outside of the bus, but I knew that I’d be back soon enough.