A Charleston Newbie's Guide to Traveling to New York

I think it's possible that I have adopted the Charleston way of life much faster than one would have thought.

How do I know this?

I had to fly to New York for a meeting last night, and I received text message after text message that my flight was delayed. Technology is amazing; my trusty iPhone told me each time my flight time was pushed back so I didn't have to sit in the Charleston airport trying to figure out what to do for 2 hours.

So I went to the airport to check-in to my flight at 7:30pm. When I got there, ticketing was completely deserted...like closed. Not a soul was there to help me. I wandered around and found someone in baggage that said I was lucky he knew how to do ticketing. And I WAS thankful that he was so nice and helpful to help me and get me on my way. And I wrote an email to his boss to tell him so, as well.

And that's when I knew...

Something has changed in me. I would have totally flipped if something like that had happened in DC...and I DIDN'T. But I guess something like that would never really happen in DC, because on the scale of people flipping, I'm not nearly as bad as most people (I would like to think), and to prevent airport rage on a large scale, airport employees would not risk closing their ticketing counter 15 minutes early, when there is a delayed flight that should have prevented them otherwise.

So I boarded my flight, flew into NYC, and picked up my rental car to drive to Westchester.

And that's, my friends, when I realized I made a big mistake. Somehow in the past year and a half, since I left DC, I have become the worst driver ever. I no longer have to sit in traffic two hours a day trying to avoid an accident. In Charleston, I can make it to wherever I'm going, but I may miss a turn or three. But missing a turn in Charleston is not like missing a turn in New York City.

By some miracle and a wrong turn into the Bronx, however, I made it to my destination in one piece. And that was wonderful, and it's so beautiful in Westchester County this time of year with the fall leaves. What a lovely experience.

And now here I am in Brooklyn, NY, waiting for my friends to get home from work so we can hang out and start our super duper weekend. My meeting ended early today, so I took my GPS and my gigantic silver rent-a-car and drove from Westchester County to Brooklyn, cursing myself the entire time that I decided to rent that car to drive around, instead of hiring a car service. Really, who CHOOSES to drive a car around New York City?

So I made my way to Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and after 10 minutes of driving down one way street after one way street, and after one failed parallel parking job that I gave up on, I parked the over-sized, awkward, silver American car. Thank GOD. I just hope it's there tomorrow when I need to take it back.

And sitting at a coffee shop in my gold flower topped flats, patterned slacks (yes, I just said SLACKS), puffy silk shirt and fancy fall beige blazer that I am proud to wear on weekends in Charleston (or evenings out), I have realized...I am not nearly cool enough for Brooklyn. In fact, I am the exact opposite. I kinda feel like someone's mother sitting here among the urban hipsters, and since I'm no one's mother yet...that's not really a good feeling. But when I got ready this morning and looked in the mirror, I thought I looked quite nice, at least by Charleston standards.

And this is when I knew...Charleston is where I belong.