It was an incredibly gloomy, Monday morning when I landed at LaGuardia Airport at around 9 AM. All I had to claim, were 2 suitcases, 1 book bag, and what I’d find shortly thereafter, my undying love for New York City.
First off, I should start by sharing that I was by myself, so I didn’t have the pleasure of watching my Dad running frantically to retrieve our bags as if we had something of tremendous value in them. God bless ’em though, I believe he holds the record for fastest arrival and departure (within the airport itself).
Anyways, as I headed to the exit after giving the short Indian guy my luggage ticket, the adrenaline started to hit. It was as if I had done this a million times before.
Right as I stepped outside into the taxi-line (which nowadays is a complete shit-show), everything started to feel real. The crisp cold breeze, the smell of weed smoke, people rushing back-and-forth trying to get where they needed to be – basically the quintessential NYC feeling when you first arrive in the winter. Or fall. Or whatever season you consider the month of October falls under. This time, I wasn’t going to stay just a weekend, and end up hungover on a plane early Sunday morning. I knew I was going to be here for a while.
I soon found my way to the front of the taxi line and told the driver my destination: 350 West 42nd St.
*Now, for those of you who don’t know about this legendary address, don’t worry. There will be more details about this later*
Because my manager at the time gave me 2 weeks to find an apartment before I started work, I had reached out to one of my close friends who I grew up with back home in Alpharetta for guidance, and how to navigate looking for an apartment. Prior to leaving, he shared a ton of valuable info, and invited me to stay with him and his roommates until I found a spot. To this day, I’m incredibly grateful to him, as if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have the friends, outlook, and support system I have today. I know I can count on every single one of them.
As the taxi pulled out of the Midtown Tunnel and onto 42nd Street, everything started to look familiar. It should be noted that I spent many holiday’s coming into the city, so landmarks like Times Square, NY Public Library, Bryant Park, TGI Friday’s, and pretty much everything on or around Avenue of Americas seemed like second nature. The only thing was that I never really left the Midtown area when I visited. This would obviously change over the years (5 times).
The taxi slowly came to a halt at the corner of 42nd and 9th on the northwest corner of the block. As I wasn’t really paying any attention to the street signs due to the density of the crowds and lights that practically lit up every sign, I didn’t realize I had arrived. The driver said that this was it, so I got my stuff out, and stood on the block. As I scoped out the street for the address on the building, I finally came across it. My jaw dropped.
A herculean skyscraper with 58 floors, The Orion is an incredible piece of work. Fun fact, it is the 128th tallest building in New York, which rises 604 ft. above street level. The building has views of the city from every direction, and within it, one specific unit, 5G, used to host some of the best pre games, where the memories will last a lifetime.
Not having met any of my friends’ roommates (yet alone any of the kids he hung out with), he mentioned I didn’t need a key as one of his roomies would be inside to let me in. Little did I know I would eventually meet one of my dearest friends to this day.
I approached the front desk, and was in absolute awe of how these kids were living. The lobby was massive, lit up, and had a doorman. In my head, all I could think was, is this normal? What kind of jobs do these kids have? Like what the fuck is even going on? How did I end up here? All hoping that it wasn’t a mistake.
I told the concierge that I was heading to 5G, and he sent me on my way as if I was being expected. While on the elevator heading up, I started to feel somewhat nervous. I didn’t really know what to expect as my friend obviously wasn’t there, and I had to quickly drop my shit off, as I had an appointment which my mother set up, for me to meet a broker for the apartment hunt.
As I knocked on the door, I started to get excited. Who would this person be? Had he heard about me before? Would HE be excited as I was?
The door finally opened and there he was standing in all his glory. Very casual as he always is, with not much of an expression on his face (granted, it was fairly early on a Monday). I’m not sure if my greeting was overbearing or too loud, but he simply just shook my hand, and went back into his room. I then stood there in the hallway with my luggage for a minute, and had no idea what to do next. Do I go further inside the apartment to put my stuff away? Do I let him know I’m leaving for a bit? Is it okay for me to help myself to a beer right now? Is it appropriate to ask him where I can find some marijuana?
Having slowly snapped out of it, I made my way around the corner to put my stuff down in the living area. I was pretty impressed with the spaciousness of the apartment as they had 3 people living there. Especially in this building.
I grabbed the spare key my friend had left on the counter, and told my new friend (at least that’s what I thought he was at the time) that I was leaving to go look at apartments. He had mumbled something through the door, to which I believe I said “sounds good”, and went on my way.
It’s a pretty crazy feeling, really. Having just hours ago spent your entire life growing up in the suburbs of Atlanta, and now showing up to what is arguably, what I like to call it, God’s Country.
Stepping onto 42nd street, I checked Google Maps and saw that my appointment was just around the corner, so I had some time to kill. I took the longer route around a couple blocks, and started to familiarize myself with the area. Walking down one of the streets, I noticed a dude wearing a Philadelphia Flyers jersey. I immediately went and dapped him up, mentioning that they are my favorite team with one of my favorite players. It was interesting for me to see this, especially on my first day, as they’re not very well-liked in the Greater New York City area, so props to him for rocking it proudly. I took this as a good sign for the rest of the day…
Cruising around the city, whether it be in Queens, Brooklyn, or Manhattan with a broker is needless to say, exhausting and exhilarating at the same time. However, if not careful, you can of course, find yourself in a situation (or apartment) you really don’t want to be in. Thankfully, the gentleman I had met was looking out for my best interests, and I knew this. He took me on the Subway for the first time, which to me was very intimidating. The way he ducked and weaved in and out of the crowds onto connecting trains, different platforms, and stations, I felt like I was in a hockey game. Of course, he assured me that I would learn the lay-of-the-land in no time, which I did (thank you Google Maps).
I remember the first apartment I walked into. It was a studio off Charles St. in the West Village. Of course, I didn’t really know what to expect, but sure enough got a massive reality check when he opened the door. And there it was. Just one room. A box. Kitchen and living area all in one room, and one bath. Many of you may know of these studio apartments in this neighborhood, and while it may be *cool* to live there, it didn’t make sense at the time. One of the requirements my parents had was that I found a place close to work. This I would find out is absolutely not how it works 🙂
While I didn’t end up working with him in the end, I have nothing but respect for him and his hustle. He taught me a lot from the experience, and I hope he’s doing well.
I eventually settled into an apartment on 30th & 8th which I would refer to as Chelsea, however my friend (who if you remember opened the door for me at 5G, and who is a New Yorker) told me that this was known as “The Shit Around Penn Station”. Of course he was right, however it was only a 15 minute walk to work, so convenient!
While it wasn’t really the best area, for some reason I felt safe there. In fact, I’ve always felt safe, regardless of where I’ve moved in the city. The location certainly had its perks, as I could easily get to my friends’ apartment since it was only 12 blocks up and 1 avenue over, work was walkable, had access to the subway, and of course, a pizza joint was right under the building. On top of that, The Garden was literally right next door. I remember rushing out of work with excitement on game days, heading straight to the bodega to pick up a couple Coors Light’s and a slice, and make my way over to watch the Rangers play by myself. I didn’t really have any friends who enjoyed hockey at the time, so I’d get the cheapest ticket I could find, and enjoy with +18,000 die-hard fans. And let me tell ya. It was fun. As. Hell.
Keep in mind, while I had 2 weeks to find an apartment, I ended up getting one within a weeks time, so I had 1 more week to spare. This is when the fun started (and continues until this day).
Over the next week, I hung out at 5G pretty much every night. New friends were made, old friends came back around again (some of who I don’t really talk to anymore), pizza, hott sauce, and beer was flowing, flip cup, beer pong, stack cup, chandeliers, any game under the sun you name it, and of course, a plethora of visitors absolutely flooded this apartment day-in-and day out. Everyone was so friendly. This was certainly the place to be, and I can’t imagine getting a better initial experience than that. Especially within my first couple of weeks.
Some of the places we used to frequent aren’t even there anymore. Specifically, there was a spot in Meatpacking District called Hi-Lo. It was my first time actually ‘going out’, and it was pure madness. I loved it. I couldn’t get over how late these kids stayed up compared to Atlanta. I guess a lot had to do with venues closing much later than they did back home, and their overall mindset on what ‘going out’ really meant. We’d also hit up the hotels which had rooftops. I’d soon realize, that because we didn’t roll with many girls at times, we’d end up having to pay astronomical amounts for bottles which over time didn’t really make sense to me. Nonetheless, it was a lesson learned. But was it? Who’s to say? 😉
One of the most notable nights was a friends birthday at The Red Room at Gansevoort Park (which also doesn’t exist anymore). It was probably the first time I was able to cut in a massive line, and enter a venue. It was epic. Especially being able to stand on the couches with a bottle of Grey Goose and not getting yelled at. This happened once more in the Lower East Side at Hotel Chantelle several weeks later, but I like to think I’ve since outgrown this behavior. Or maybe I haven’t!
The second week was coming to a close, and I had to FINALLY go into work on the upcoming Monday, because to be quite honest, I was tired of going out. Thankfully, my manager had invited me to go to dinner with my new co-workers prior to the first day, so it helped get my mind right. It was great getting to meet the new people I’d be working with. Some of whom I’m still friends with ’til this day.
It’s interesting to note, that at the time, our office was located at 175 Varick St. Otherwise famously known as the WeWork in SoHo West. We would occupy a floor (5th and 8th if I remember correctly) for the next 2 and a half years as the company grew. This was one of the first WeWork facilities that sprung up initially in 2010. Keep in mind, that this was the early days of the company, so they were just getting their bearings straight. I don’t think anyone realized the absolute chaos that would unravel years later. However, I have zero complaints in working there. It was a nice office, served its purpose, and I was able to connect with a lot of smart people who were on the grind. And of course, there was unlimited beer on tap, which I just recently learned that they cut down to “four 12-ounce pours per beer in a single day,” and can only access the taps between noon and 8 pm, Monday through Friday. Thank god I’ve since left. How tragic.
During my time at WeWork, I befriended a girl who worked on the same floor. We’re still (as far as I know) friends, however connect sporadically every several months. She is super smart, and is doing really well in her career. I hadn’t really hung out with anyone outside from “work” before (aside from peeps in my regular crew), but I remember the day when I had casually mentioned that I was going to see Future (pic below), at Up & Down. She was pretty excited at the plan. The only issue was, my friends said I couldn’t invite more people, as they got table, and figured it would be an issue to get more heads in. Of course, she worked her magic at the door, and we were able to get in seamlessly without any trouble. This turned out to be one of my top 3 nights in New York City. And still is, as we stand here today.
Having just moved right before the holidays, there was really no point in going home. My parents came to visit during Thanksgiving to help me settle the rest of my stuff in the apartment, and that was it. I was finally on my own.
Come December, I of course was ecstatic for the long Christmas break. I mean, its fucking Christmas in New York, and I lived here. Where else did I need to be?
When it came time to plan New Years, I was quick to suggest my apartment for the pregame as it was close to the venue. It was great. My friends had brought the Duke tailgating table (which I still have in my apartment in case anyone wants it back), and speakers to get things crankin’. It was an awesome feeling getting to have people over at an apartment with minimal furniture (this allowed us to have more people than it could actually fit)!
Upon arriving to the party, everyone was scattered, so I could’t find anyone. It was about 30 minutes until the clock struck 12, so I made my way in by myself. I remember standing at the entrance and just admiring the scene. Manhattanites, Brooklynites, and people from all over just cutting it up and having a good time.
At that point, all I could think about was that I started out at The Darby, ended up at 1 OAK, left the house with 100 grand, and ended up broke 🙂
I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Most importantly, I hope it was engaging for you, as there will be more to come.
We out,
Ravi
ravs' ramblin's 