Is New York Back? I Fucking Hope So

“You’ve been back for what, a month now?” 

I had to sit there for a minute and think after the question had been posed — had I actually been back for a month already? 

Even though I wish time flew by faster during the nine-hour car ride from Raleigh to Manhattan in which one of those hours was spent listening to QLP explain to my father how to properly use voice dictation on his Samsung Galaxy, it truly has flown.

Wanting to leave QLP and Dave at the nearest WaWa station aside — you try listening to my father how to properly use voice dictation for 15 minutes straight —my time back home in New York has been filled with the full-time job search (still), the hustle of full-time freelance life (also, still), and a bevy of dates with friends, be it for lunch or dinner. I soaked it all in, visiting my favorite haunts and reminding myself of flavors that were hard to come by in North Carolina. I took Dad for massive fish tacos at my neighborhood spot, Mole. I showed him the ropes at one of my favorite restaurants in town, Atoboy; the savory waffle cone stuffed with smoked eel first course was very much a welcome home moment. I became a razor clam fiend and ordered them whenever I could. I dressed up for the first time in well over a year and shared a Porterhouse for two at newly-opened Charlie Palmer Steak with one friend while another partook in the most epic “big girl” salad of surprises I’ve ever seen. I ate some superbly hot laksa at Laut Singapura. I took a friend on a crawl through two boroughs; we noshed on fancy hash browns with caviar on a boat, had elevated DIY fish tacos at Crown Shy, and drank dive wines at Skinny Dennis.

Greetings from Tacoway Beach.

I was moving quickly and I wasn’t the only one — New York itself was coming back to life with people returning to the city in droves. Everyone was out literally everywhere, even in neighborhoods like Midtown that became sleepy in the Covid era.

When de Blasio boldly stated that the city would fully reopen by July and Cuomo announced that restaurants and bars could operate at full capacity, New Yorkers felt a sense of whiplash — everything was green lit and thus game on. Saturday brunch reservations were suddenly hard to come by. The subways were crowded and I was dodging pedestrians on almost every major avenue. In one night alone, some friends and I met for dinner in Midtown and collectively experienced a typical Tuesday evening of the Before Times: traffic on the Queensboro Bridge, a power outage along my local subway line (which actually worked to my advantage), and a major protest on 42nd Street.

I have partaken in a round of shots with strangers, and witnessed a full-blown argument between a pedestrian on a bicycle and an elitist driving a Tesla. I spun a wheel of fun on Cinco de Mayo and won free tequila shots and some Don Julio merch. I went to Rockaway Beach with the masses during a heat wave. I signed up for my first in-person race since March of 2020. I’ve even hit on a bartender. (I also adopted two cats, which has absolutely nothing to do with this at all, and so is a story for a different day.)

This city is on fire. Everyone is out and can’t get enough of dining out, hanging out with friends, and ponying up to an actual bar. 

I’d like to think that New York is back. Maybe it’s just the hospitality industry, coming in real hot after a painfully long hiatus.

Whatever the case, I think the entire city is here for it. I know I am.