The very first time I ever went to New York City was the summer in between my junior and senior year in college. I was interning for a Senator in Washington, D.C. and New York was just a short train ride away so two of my good Baylor friends (who were also interning) and I took advantage of just that.
We left from Union Station in D.C. and an hour or so later we were walking out of Grand Central Station right smack in the middle of New York.
I couldn’t believe it. I had made it to New York City. Me, Mark Cole and Ashley Rodamacher. None of us had ever been to the city before … and we were young and naive … and poor.
I still remember where we were staying …. Lowe’s Summit on 77th Avenue. I probably remember that because we knew, upon exiting Grand Central Station, that we’d need to find a cab to the hotel.
And we must have had “country mouse” written all over us … because not four steps out of Grand Central Station and we’d already been robbed.
Someone approached us and asked if we needed a taxi. We said “yes” and told him where we were going. He said … “give me $20 and I’ll get you one.” And Mark gave him a $20 … assuming it was to pay for the cab … and no sooner was it in the man’s hand than he started to run. RUN!
And although I felt awful that Mark had lost $20, it also seemed a little exciting … kind of appropriate…that we got ripped off about four minutes after we arrived. It felt so big city.
We still laugh about it to this day. I laugh harder though when I remember Ashley running AFTER the robber. Like what was she going to do when she caught him?!? It was hilarious. And I wasn’t naive enough to think chasing a robber in New York City was a good idea.
Really, I wasn’t.