this is my new york: finding warmth

It has been said that nothing good happens after midnight. But seeing all these people hanging out on the streets of New York City at two in the morning seems to prove it otherwise.

The bus dropped me off at 35th Street and as I stepped down on the pavement, I paused (for dramatic effect) and reveled in the fact that I am in New York City. Wow. This is really happening.

So I headed down to the hotel where I'll be staying in, briskly walking, taking a whiff of the city air which doesn't really feel any different from what I breathe in Manila. Except perhaps that NYC's is much colder. And smells of indifference.

I passed by Madison Square Garden. It's no Statue of Liberty nor Empire State Building but weirdly, I feel much more excited seeing The Garden than any other tourist spot here in NYC. I feel an affinity for the place. This must have been brought about by my being a Mariah fan. It was her concert in Madison Square Garden pre-Butterfly era that introduced me to the person behind the Voice, behind the songs that I've come to love. To me, it was like sacred ground. Not that I'll kiss the lobby floor or anything but I just feel happy that I've seen it, that I've been here. Like I said, weird.

Anyway, after navigating through several dark, creepy blocks, I arrived at the hotel. But I won't fool myself, it's an inn but they call it a hotel, so whatever. I've had difficulty in confirming my reservation days before my trip so I was a bit wary on how my conversation with the frontdesk will go about. Good thing though that the clerk was friendly so things did go smoothly. Unfortunately, my bed was given to another client as I was "late" but he'll be giving me another one just for the night. I'll just have to transfer rooms the next day though. I'm tired so whatever works.

I went to room 301 and cautiously opened the door knowing that it is highly probable that my roommates were already sleeping. I tried to make my way in the dark, grasping at bed posts all the while trying to avoid walking on the clutter. Messy roommates. Two minutes in here and I already feel like a University student. Awesome.

As I was trying to figure out which empty bed was mine, one of my roomies got up and walked towards me.

"Charlie," he asked in a hushed tone.

"Oh sorry. I'm not Charlie," I answered back trying to make out his form as the guy stood in the shadows.

"Oh yeah. I just thought you were the other guy," pointing to the lower bunk on my left side. "You just got in?"

"Yep. Bus came in late. Or too early. Whichever you prefer. So, do you know which is E?"

"Hmm. I have no idea but it's any bed that isn't occupied I guess"

"Alright," I answered as I put in my bags on the upper bunk, assuming that it was mine. "Hey sorry if I woke you up."

"Oh don't worry, I couldn't sleep," he said as he walked closer seemingly inspecting the bed. The light from outside the window gave me a better look at my roommate. He's probably a student in his 20s, spikey blond hair, blue eyes, pierced ears, nicely toned, and dressed only in his boxers. They certainly grow them differently here than in Manila.

"I'm not quite sure why but yours doesn't have a sheet," he whispered as he went back to his bed, reaching for something.

"Ah okay. I can just go down and ask the guy on the counter for one."

"If you want, you can use my blanket in the meantime," he offered as a neatly-folded blanket was handed over to me.

"Are you sure? I mean I could..."

"It's okay. I'll just use those," pointing to the white sheet spread over his bed. "Anyway, it is my last night here." He added smiling.

"Ok. Thanks. By the way, I'm Mak." I reached out my hand to properly introduce myself.

"Oh. I'm Brad. Nice meeting you. So, I'll let you settle in and stuff first," he responded as he shook my hand.

"Right."

He went back to his bed and turned on his music player while I resumed unpacking some of the stuff that I'll be needing. After a quick shower, I went back to my bed and was ready to doze off when Brad asked if I'm about to sleep as he propped himself up on the top bunk parallel to mine. And even if I wanted to say yes, I couldn't. I wouldn't.

Brad bid me a good night's sleep before he went back to his bed. I looked at my mobile to check the time. It was thirty past three. He kept me up for an hour as we talked about New York City, their politics and economy, and life in general. The talk was, however, delightful. In my opinion, it is the definition of an ideal conversation - spontaneous and reciprocal - he had something to say, I had something to share. Every bit of it was comfortable. Well, maybe I was a bit conscious given the glaring circumstances but nevertheless, there was familiarity. Plus, it was refreshing on my part to be able to conduct a dialogue using English all throughout. I love it and I want to get used to it. Sadly even if I still wanted to chat, I can't. He wore me out and doing it in hushed tones doubles the effort exerted.

As I closed my eyes, I realized that there must be something in the NYC air that keeps its residents up at night. There is indeed a difference but it's not really so much about it being apathetic or well, indifferent. Everyone here in the Big Apple, both dwellers and travelers alike, treat everyone else as a stranger by default. But once they meet someone whom they could relate to and bond with here, I bet they wouldn't feel the chill.