The thrill is gone. The trendy restaurants that used to be so alluring are now virtual chop-shops with a celebrity backer that closed down a year after they've fleeced everyone in the city for a $30 plate of pesto pasta, only to be reinvented in another "up-and-coming" neighborhood. Then a Starbucks moves in, then a Gap, and then the 'hood is no longer hip.
The velvet ropes in front of clubs that used to make me feel important as I flew through them now seem like Nazi controlled cooler-than-thou fortresses that allow me the privilege of enjoying a $12 cocktail and a huge helping of attitude shoved down my throat. The many tourist attractions? I've been here over seven years and although I live across the street from the ferry, have never been to the Statue of Liberty. Or to the top of the Empire State Building. I now spend my daily commute wading through sickos selling gruesome photos of the World Trade Center collapse and the sad folks who buy them. It's time to come home.
I moved to New York City to take the lessons I learned bartending on Water Street and five years at UW-Madison and put them to use in the big city. After a few years of struggling, I finally carved out a decent career working for a major music magazine. I was paying $1,200 a month for a 300 square foot one bedroom (considered a good deal here) and have recently moved up to a few more feet (one hundred to be exact) and into the $1,500 a month bracket.
I have backstage passes to any concert, never have to wait for a table and have a best friend who runs a prominent club that caters to the rich and famous and possess a NYC all-access pass. So why is it that I keep longing for a paper plate of steak tacos from Conejitos and a Sprecher Amber from Wolski's?
For those of you who are familiar with Manhattan, that adrenaline rush normally received upon entering the Midtown tunnel from La Guardia has been replaced by an inquisitive sort of sympathy. The capital of the world, the one that you used to visit to catch a Broadway show, a walk up Fifth Avenue or a game at Yankee Stadium, has been rendered vulnerable. The hard-ass residents that let out an annoyed sigh while a tourist digs in their purse for their credit card, holding up that person's all-important time are no longer feared and revered. They've been hit with a hard jab and are a bit punch-drunk. All of a sudden their jobs are in jeopardy, their freedom is in jeopardy and some even think their lives are in jeopardy.
Man, it was fun. Going to a party for newinternetcompanyoftheweek.com. Drinking free Champagne, gorging on sushi and spending the advertising money that was flooding the city from Silicon Valley. Doubleclick is having a party at Cipriani's and raffling off a new Volkswagen? Yahoo! and American Express booked Windows On The World and hired Diana Ross to sing torch songs? Some company I never heard of is giving away free drinks having a clambake in Battery Park? What's the RSVP number?
Today, it's all about marketing budget cuts and severance packages. One of the hottest parties in town is held at a club that gives away free drinks to those unfortunate dot commers brandishing a freshly printed pink slip.
Although there is new information suggesting a rebounding economy, life here has changed for the foreseeable future. Even if those jobs come back and the rebuilding project is on schedule for downtown, the longing for the simpler life has encompassed most of the people I know. People are getting married, having kids, moving to New Jersey and subscribing to magazines like Real Simple and not renewing their Vanity Fair and Cosmopolitan subscriptions.
I personally got in touch with my need for substance over style on my annual Christmas visit home. I had a fish fry at The Brown Bottle, caught a Bucks game and finished the evening off with a beer at The Eastsider. Plus, I didn't have to wait in line or drop $300 to do it. The host at the restaurant was courteous, the crowd at the game was actually there to watch the game and not who was in the front row and the doorman actually asked me how I was doing. I actually had fun without much effort. Imagine that.
Sometimes tragedy and losing faith in the establishment makes people re-evaluate their place in the world. I'm no different. Even though there's a chance that someone might decide to strap some dynamite to their chest and take out one of the Wall Street buildings that border my apartment doesn't scare me, it just makes me think. It makes me think that New York City is a great place when the money and champagne is flowing, but a hard and unforgiving when the well runs dry.
It also makes me wonder how much of my 401k money the guys in the pinstripe suits and blue oxford shirts in the office building I can see into from my apartment are stealing. I suppose that the high highs and the low lows are what make the city so attractive, but I've been around enough times to begin longing for what can be expected: a Sunday Packers party, a Summer full of eating and drinking at the lakefront and the feeling of accomplishment you get after braving a 40-below wind chill to grab a pizza at Zaffiro's.
While visiting Milwaukee this past December, I was invited by a friend and local man-about-town to a new club opening downtown. As I walked up, I noticed a model-wannabe doorman holding a clipboard full of names and giving attitude to anyone who dared attempt entrance. Upon entering the club, I noticed cell phones attached to the majority of heads and many brand spanking new outfits. There was a general excitement in the air, a feeling of something new happening. I made a lap around the place, grabbed my friend headed to the Landmark and bowled a 165. Life was good.
Sean McCusker is a Milwaukee native and a writer living in New York City. He has written for magazines such as Rolling Stone and the A & F Quarterly and is currently on staff at FHM. But, not for long judging by this article.
