When I went to New York City I really had no great expectations, I knew that I was only there for an afternoon today and gone by lunch tomorrow, nothing more than a stopover. I parked my car illegally in true New Yorker fashion – in front of a garage gate and walked to the harbor to enjoy sunset. The view from under the Brooklyn bridge looking towards Manhattan is the second-best view of a city I’ve ever seen, second only to Hong Kong from Victoria Peak.
As I waited for day to turn into evening at seven o’clock, the sun’s reflection pierced through my eyes on the glass walled Freedom Tower. I looked away for a moment and the face of a girl I once knew flashed into view, my brain had connected the New York skyline to a second-grade crush I had – Ashley.
Ashley was a Chinese-American from New York City who studied in the same grade school as me way, way back. She’d be pretty much the only person in the class who’d laugh at my lame jokes and the only girl to play dinosaurs with me and Matias at break. Looking back, she didn’t only have a heart of gold, she also had the face of an angel.
Her wavy voluminous hair that reached her elbows made her head look like it belonged to a Barbie doll. Her pointed chin below her rounded cheeks that I loved to poke showed with her smile. Between those cheeks were small, but bright red lips – red probably from the dry Shanghai winters. When I’d look at her, she’d look right into me with her watery hazel eyes, then flutter her long eyelids before looking away.
“Stop staring, you’re making it weird.” She’d punch me playfully and giggle, revealing one small dimple on the right side of her cheek.
Not aware of how much time had passed while I daydreamed, I stared at the dimming sky watching as the lights turned on. It seems as if New York City only really comes alive after sunset. As the song goes: “If you get caught between the moon and New York City, the best that you can do is fall in love.” The memories, the view, the salty sea breeze made me fall in love with the sunset.
When the sun set just below the horizon I snapped a few photos of the deep blue sky fading behind the glittering city lights. As I posted the best of those photos onto social media, I noticed its resemblance to the opening scene of some of my favorite crime series. The shows that made me dream of visiting New York City when I was twelve. A real dream come true even if it was only for one night.
I walked back to my car, relieved to find no ticket on the windscreen. Pulling out of the narrow cobblestone streets, I turned onto the onramp for the Brooklyn Bridge looking for dinner in Manhattan. The only way to experience the bridge is to roll the windows down and yell obscenities at the traffic in front of me. As soon as I got off the bridge I turned left to go downtown and hunted for a metered parking spot.
Fortunately, I found an empty spot as an SUV moved out of it. Unfortunately, I realized I had no idea where I was after I parked. I walked out from the side street to a wider avenue to see if I could ask for directions like a fool. The first person to come along that intersection was a stately woman in a light blue dress holding a black Prada handbag.
“Excuse me miss.” I stopped her and showed her the address of a restaurant on my phone. “Do you know where this is?”
“Uh…let me see.” She takes my phone in her hand and zooms in on the map.
“If it’s not around here I’ll have to move the car, but I’m not keen on giving up a spot I just found.” I shrugged.
“Oh don’t worry, it’s just around…” the woman looked up at me and paused. Her watery hazel eyes pierced through my memories.
I gazed back into her eyes and asked: “Ashley?”
She fluttered her eyelids and punched me playfully. “Stop it, you’re making it weird.”
