We decided to see a movie*. We had never sat in a cinema together, had never sat in silence, our attention turned away from ourselves. Young lovers, not absorbed in each other, but focusing on the big screen before us.
It was the closing scene, the underdog finally realizing she has won, has achieved her goal. She looks out of her highrise office window, out into the city before her. The camera watches her from the outside, through the spotless glass. It draws away. The city scape comes into view and the city is laid out before the audience.
It's New York City.
I lean into my new girlfriend as the credits begin to roll. "Let's go there," I say.
"I'd love to," was the reply.
Two weeks later, we're in the Big Apple.
Twenty-six years later, to the month, we will find ourselves there again. Just the two of us, alone.
I love that city, always feel the rush of excitement at the prospect of being it the large, sprawling metropolis, the city that never sleeps.
I can't wait.
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| NYC, 1989 |
* The movie was Working Girl.
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