On Crossing That Damn Brooklyn Bridge
Sara, the Manhattanite
Once upon a time, I was completely and utterly anti-Brooklyn. Sure, I loved exploring the vintage shops and off-the-beaten-track restaurants that lay across the bridge. Once, I even dated a guy from Brooklyn. But at the end of the day, it was Manhattan that I returned to. Never to Brooklyn, I declared. Never.
And that’s how I learned never to say “never”. Especially in New York City.
I moved into what I thought was an Upper East Side gem, right on the corner of 69th and 2nd. It turned out to be the disaster of the 21st century. Not only was it right next to the never-ending 2nd Avenue subway construction site, but it came with a mouse (named Mickey), a creepy, pot-smoking neighbor, and a kitchen sink that clogged up on an almost daily basis. It would take my lazy superintendent so long to come and fix it that at one point, I was forced to wash dishes in my bathtub.
Sara, the Brooklynite
By this time, some of my best friends had moved to Brooklyn. My job was in the Financial District. My favorite hangouts were below 14th street. The apartments in Brooklyn were better, said everyone. Why not make the move?
Then I found it. Hardwood floor. Exposed brick wall. Large windows and southern exposure. Quiet, tree-lined street in Park Slope. Twenty steps from the subway. It took some prodding, but eventually, I packed my life up and moved.
And suddenly, 3 of my close friends moved to the Upper East Side. Then, I got asked out by a guy who lived back in the East 60’s. My life has an uncanny sense of humor.
Sara, the Who-Cares-What
The above cartoon is based on a true story. For even as a Manhattanite, I never let the island trap me. I would take the subway to the very ends of the boroughs to try restaurants that were hailed as one of New York’s million best kept secrets. It didn’t matter to me if it was 2am in the morning; if friends needed me, I’d venture out to Brooklyn…and for God’s sake, even Queens.
I may move back to Manhattan one day. Or I may decide to stay in Brooklyn. Either way, you can be sure that bridge won’t be cramping my style.