Tags
adventure, Beer, Birthday, Brewery, cultures, Emotion, entertainment, friends, Happiness, Holidays, memories, New York, regret, travel
Her face is smudged with foundation that gives her an orange glow and only emphasizes her age. The creamy substance lumps in the fine wrinkles next to her heavy smokey eyes. Her top is cut just a little bit too low and shows a cleavage pushed up to her collarbone. The tight top not only accentuates her boobs, but also her muffintop. She is really nice though. She gives me and my friend, slightly tipsy, advice on where to go while we are in New York.
I met the nice lady in the Brooklyn Brewery, where I put my skilled taste buds to the test with some delicious beers. The brewery is based in an industrial hall, with long wooden picnic tables, which encourages the merrymakers to talk to strangers, a beer in hand and a slice of Brooklyn pizza in the other. We found ourselves, Brooklyn Oktoberfest beer in hand, talking with neighbouring women. The four women , were born and raised New Yorkers and proud to be. They reminded me of the four famous gals from Sex and the City, if it wasn’t reality kicking in.
The woman I was talking to most, let’s call her Samantha, looked pretty and sparkling, but from up close, you could see she was trying too hard. Her conversational skills were superficial and made her look immature, or maybe even overmature-midlifecrises-kinda-style. She tried to fit in with her slightly younger friends, but when she started talking about the upcoming Woodstock festival her friends faces drew blank.
I felt sorry for her. I am sure she herself and her close friends consider themselves glamorous, interesting, succesful and maybe even happy persons. But then I caught her. She was letting her guard down when she thought nobody was watching. I think, when she looks at herself in the mirror at night, after washing the layers of make up and the city of her face, there is a middle-aged, lonely woman left.
I don’t know if it is New York City that does this to her or if it’s her life choices. And I don’t know if its New York City that makes people unhappy or if it’s their life choices, but not that many people smile, at least, no sincere smiles. For me, this meeting, was a wake up call. Whining about turning 25, seems like such an insignificant action, while I have lots to be happy about. New York, you ain’t dragging me down!
Dit-oui 