| NYC |
CAB RIDES & CURSE WORDS
It's been about three weeks since I wrote my never going to send it letter to Brooks. Three whole weeks and in that space I've learned 1. Josh was deservedly promoted 2. The Impossible burger is, in fact, IMPOSSIBLE and 3. I'm excited for NYC.
These are the three things I think about as wheels touch down at JFK.
I turn my phone back on and watch as it searches for service. The little calendar has a bold 24 on it. I can't believe it's already the last weekend of June!
Josh and I grab our carry-ons and exit into the stagnant New York heat. It hits me as I disembark the plane and find my footing on the jetway. East coast, baby.
"Shit, it's hot," Josh curses as we wait in the cab queue on the curb.
"It is," I agree, already regretting my fancy blow out I paid for yesterday.
The blow out was only a minor cost compared to everything else I did for this weekend. The list includes the $65 blow out, but also the $90 Brazilian, my $108 gel mani and pedi, and capped by the abso killer $195 romper now clinging to my *almost* curves. My ass is the Big Apple in this number. Compliments of Anthropologie.
Why? Do you even have to ask? It's obvious to anyone breathing that it's customary to spend hundreds of dollars min when seeing your ex for the first time in a year. Can't be alone in this, right?
"I got the bags," Josh says as the cab rolls to a stop in front of us.
"Thanks." I hand Josh my bag and he dumps it along with his into the trunk.
"What time's check in?" I hear him asking at the trunk.
"Um, 4 PM?" I slide into the back seat of the smelly cab.
"It's only two. Want to grab some lunch first?" Josh asks.
"Let's drop off our stuff first. I think Lauren is planning a lunch thing anyway," I tell him. "If not, we can go get lunch."
Josh slides in beside me and pulls the door shut. We are officially in the cab. There is officially no turning back now.
"Sounds like a plan," Josh says, squeezing my hand.
I know he does this to show support, because he must understand at least to some degree the nerves I am feeling. Maybe. Maybe not.
I focus on the crochet hem of my romper. I stare at Josh's sage green button-down, at the way it brings out the green in his eyes. Damn, he looks good. This helps a bit.
Now that I'm in the cab –now that I'm *we're* en route to The Plaza, it's all starting to feel a bit too real for me. I'm excited to see Trix and Meg and Lauren. Maybe even Whit. Don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid to see him. It's just –There is no word for it.
I silently panic the entire ride, envious of Josh and how cucumbery-cool he is. Of course, Josh knows. Well, he knows what he needs to know. That I used to, in high school, and more recently, date one of my guy friends once upon a time ago.
Josh knows it's Brooks, but he also knows that now Brooks is dating model Cece Majors. That's the brief History 101 lesson I gave him at least.
The cab slows to a stop in front of the grand château style hotel. The entrance to Central Park is crowded just across the street. It'd be easy to disappear into the park...
I spritz my beachdrunk perfume into my hair and apply a fresh coat of my Too Faced lipstick. I glance at my reflection in my phone. Good enough. I got this.
Josh pulls his credit card out and slides it through the mini kiosk attached to the seat of the cab. I follow him out of the cab and step onto the curb.
"Shit. Shit. Shit." I curse beneath my breath.
"Holy shit, this place is nice." Josh looks up at the front of the hotel.
"Coming from you that's saying something," I tease.
"Ready?" He cocks his head sideways.
I nod for him to start walking inside.
Breathe.
Do I look perfect? Do I look happy? Will he look happy? Will I run and duck into coat check when I see him? Will I remember how to function properly?
Will I recognize him?
It is sort of an interesting thing –forgetting what people look like in person. It's like, I have what I think he looks like –what my memory has made him to look like. But who knows if that's even right anymore. He could be a completely different person altogether and I would have no way of knowing.
For some fucking reason, that's the only thing I'm thinking as I walk into The Plaza right now, with Josh on my arm.
...
🤍
Okay bremmies, who is ready for NYC weekend?! Drop comments and predictions here :)
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