nyc experiment: week three

nyc experiment: week 3

Week three has been a whirlwind. It started with tennis in a bubble on Roosevelt Island and shopping at the showrooms with a Bay Area tennis buddy and ended with the NY premiere of the movie “Bro’s” with my cousin on the Upper West Side. Since we arrived on August 31, I can honestly say my confidence with using the subway has increased 100% even though I went the wrong direction at least twice and missed my stop once. We have been starting every day with a dog walk which usually takes us to the West Side Highway/Hudson River Park. There is a beautiful view of the Hudson River, New Jersey, downtown and the Statue of Liberty. And, there are a ridiculous number of outstanding looking people who are running, jogging and walking. I have not seen so many flat stomachs since spring break in Rosarita Beach, Mexico 1992. While gazing at the view and all of the outstanding human specimens, my husband and I have realized that we are walking way too slowly. People and dogs of all shapes, sizes, ages and ability are frequently passing us and we are going to have to focus and increase our pace if we want to start fitting in as residents rather than tourists.

With encouragement from a new friend who lives nearby in Tribeca, I decided to try to solve the riddle of playing tennis in NYC. I had asked a number of people in the months before we moved and I was regularly directed towards a tennis club on Roosevelt Island. I emailed the head of adult tennis, Bobby, and he called me back the same day. I told Bobby that I am rated 4.5 in USTA tennis in Northern California and that I was looking for a game or clinic at my level. He said, “Lots of people tell me that they are 4.5’s and then they show up here and they are not that good.” I knew he was being a little sarcastic so I wasn’t offended. The next day, I showed up at 11 am and Bobby introduced himself right away. He was exactly as I pictured; a Jewish Joe Pesci with silver hair just like my dad. He’s a close talker, with a New York accent, online dating profile height of 5’6” but actually 5’4” and can’t talk without lightly touching your arm, shoulder or back. He said, “OK Miss West Coast, let’s go see how good you are. You are gonna be my partner and we are playing these two guys – one is 83 years old so play your best ‘customer tennis.’” 

I knew right then that I had not asked some vital questions ahead of this game and this was going to be a slow two hours of tennis. After we were up 3-0 in the first set, Bobby proceeded to start calling me “D” and was clearly appreciative of my skills. He casually mentioned that he was “connected” and I started second guessing my Jew-dar thinking he might be Italian. But, my read was right and his version of “connected” is that his sisters are in the entertainment business: one sister had a long time production partnership with Bette Midler and the other was a producer on “Sex in the City” (yes, I googled this after the tennis.) After three not-so-compelling sets of tennis where my team won 6-1, 6-0, 6-1, I decided I had to take a photo to commemorate how uncharacteristically patient I was. Luckily, I managed to meet another pro on the walk back to the subway and he has hooked me up with a more appropriate clinic. 

Last Thursday, we had tickets to see The Chainsmokers at an outdoor venue in Brooklyn. The advertised start time for the event was 8 pm. We arrived at the concert at 8:45 pm and worked hard not to be horribly uncomfortable that we were the oldest couple there by 15 to 20 years. At 9:30 pm we realized that the DJ we were watching was not a publicized opener but the pre-opener entertainment. The actual opener came on at 9:35 pm and finished at 10:40 pm. At 11:30 pm, the Chainsmokers had yet to take the stage so we gave up on seeing them. I knew at 9:35 pm that we weren’t going to make it to see the headliner but I had to let it play out until 11:30 pm. We decided to text our kids right away and admit our defeat: “Tonight we had the sad realization that an event that starts at 8 pm is not really happening until after 11 pm and we were apparently the only ones there who did not realize this.” My son responded, “Oh Mother…Please tell me you didn’t arrive at 8 pm.” I replied, “We learned our lesson. Next time, we will stay in our lane.”

After navigating various sites and apps, we finally found a pickleball game on Sunday at a nearby playground. We showed up on Sunday morning and were able to navigate the norms and survive a vetting from the self-appointed commissioner of NYC pickleball. After checking us out, she proceeded to tell five or six other players (all younger than us) that their game was not advanced and they “should not get comfortable.” I admired her clarity and willingness to confront some athletic 25 year olds who likely had never been shamed off a playground before. After the Chainsmokers debacle, it was really nice to know that we had succeeded in “staying in our lane” for pickleball.

So far, we have seen 16 friends from California, 6 friends who live in NY or NJ and 2 kids of close friends who are going to school here in the city. We also have new friends who we met over the summer who live in Tribeca and are giving us amazing recommendations for bars, restaurants, shows, personal maintenance and tennis. As of the end of more than three weeks, we are LOVING this experiment.