Trading Places

By Lesley Messer

This time our snappy reporter traded in her student duds for a stint in the Big Apple as a true working girl, in the latest edition of Trading Places.

 Remember when living in an 18 by 20 room with a perfect stranger, wearing sandals in the shower, and eating from the all-you-can-eat calorie fest extravaganza that is Sargent was all so new and different? That’s sort of what it was like to come back to Northwestern after spending several months as a Manhattanite.

 They say you need to live in New York for at least 10 years before you can classify yourself as a “real” New Yorker, but for the purposes of this column, I’m going to hope that my measly 6 or 7 months will suffice.

 I had a great summer in the city but I wasn’t sure if it was because I loved the newness of being somewhere besides Cincinnati or because of New York itself. So when it came time for my TM at People to begin, I was a little anxious. Four uninterrupted months of New York City seemed a bit daunting but I was living in a great apartment with a close friend and was excited to start work as a gossip-hound extraordinaire. I never expected that I’d fall in love with a city so quickly.

 Maybe it was the simplicity of my days matched with the extravagance of the city itself. Maybe it was the food and the shopping. Or maybe it really was my job mixed with the independence of living on my own. Whatever the case, I was living what I felt to be a grownup life with a grownup schedule.

 I’d wake up every morning at 8:30, shower, get dressed and head out to the subway. I’d get to work, stop by a restaurant in the concourse level and buy a raspberry Lite and Fit for breakfast. Every. Single. Morning. Then I’d stop by my desk, go to the pantry to make myself a huuuuge cup of coffee (little skim, 1 Splenda) and get back to my computer to check my email. Because I got to work about a half hour before the other fact-checkers, I had all the time in the world to secretly read my favorite gossip pages: gawker.com and Page Six. Of course, if anyone would walk by, I’d minimize the screen and flash them my best “I swear I’m cultured, deep deep down” smile.

 And then my day of fact-checking would begin. I’d wait for articles to be written and use the drafts to figure out what facts I’d need to verify. Once it was making sure that a girl we were profiling had AIDS and not HIV. Another time it was finding out the name of Rodney Dangerfield’s mother (which, oddly, we never did uncover…). Once it was freaking out to Chanel about how I absolutely needed to know if a jacket was velvet. All in a day’s work.

 On Tuesdays things got a little more crazy than usual. That was the night we put the magazine to bed, which meant I didn’t get to go to go home and get into bed until around 1am. It was ok though, because they sent me home in one of those Mr. Big-esque black, Lincoln towncars. I liked to pretend that people were wondering who was inside – I guess it made me feel more mature. More “New York.”

 Of course, the workplace did have its moments. When Britney Spears tied the knot with Kevin “I’ll never be half the man Justin is” Federline, People staged a wedding reception one Friday afternoon. Another time, an editor was sent a putt putt game so work ceased at 4 so that everyone good drink gin and tonics, have coconut-battered shrimp and compete in a putt putt competition. There were cupcakes to celebrate someone’s promotions, more cupcakes to celebrate an engagement and a costume party complete with amazing prizes for Halloween. I swear, People people were always looking for an excuse to have fun.

 Once the bureau even let me cover a party. I and sipped hibiscus margaritas and indulged in decadent chocolate truffles. I took notes of the atmosphere (a beach theme with beautiful models reclining in skimpy swimsuits) and even got to interview a few actresses. I couldn’t believe that they’d send a twenty-one year-old wannabe reporter but I suppose what they didn’t know never hurt them. And besides, it was all part of working for People, I guess.

 But all parties aside, the nightlife in New York is unbeatable, at least by Evanston. Neither the Deuce, Keg and 1800 combined nor even the frattiest of open-bar date parties can hold a candle to the New York bar scene. Every weekend my roommate Rachel and I would try to explore a new area of the city. We loved McFadden’s, a rowdy Irish pub on 42^nd and The Joshua Tree, a bar that only played 80s music videos on 34^th. Opaline on Ave. A was our favorite dance spot and the East Village boasted several lounges where we could relax and enjoy vodka tonics (for her) and gin and tonics (for me). The Lower West Side became the setting for my 21^st birthday celebration. After enjoying a meal and bottle of champagne, we visited a bar with t-shirts that were just as incredible as their house cocktails (The Fat Black Pussycat – what’s not to love?) and enjoyed the musical stylings (ranging from “Bohemian Rhapsody” to “Hey Ya”) of a full choir at Café Wha?.

 We ended my birthday the same way we ended many late nights – with New York slices. Stromboli Pizza, Due Amici and the zillions of other by-the-slice joints have completely ruined both Romeo’s and Papa John’s for me.

 In fact, I think that’s one of the things about New York – the food is unreal. At Angura, the sushi place on 2^nd Avenue between 12^th and 13^th, there are a million kinds of rolls that I’d never seen AND free edamame with every order. And while New York has a reputation for being pricey, it’s possible to get by on a budget. The falafel vendors can provide for cheap AND delicious meals and I’m sure if I ate hot dogs regularly, the hot dog vendors would receive raves too. And brunches! Brunch specials in New York are unreal. For a mere $9.95, I could enjoy an omelet, salad, rice and beans, an English muffin, a cup of coffee and a mimosa at The Life Cafe. All KINDS of delicious. 

And while I liked to ogle the latest in the windows at Bergdorf’s and Saks, I also learned how easy it is to shop on a budget. Around Christmas, there were craft fairs galore in various parts of the city. Everything from pashminas to chandelier earrings to rings made from antique spoons were available for cheap. I think that’s one of the things I liked best about New York: it was possible to live inexpensively without feeling like I was sacrificing quality.

 There was also something to be said about working over going to class. I didn’t have time for my naps and I drank more cups of coffee while at People than the rest of my life combined but there was something to be said for ending a day and having it be really over. There was no studying. No essays to write, no reading to do. I found myself reading for fun – finally catching up with all the books I’ve accumulated and not even feeling guilty about it. I went out for drinks and dessert. I watched movies guiltlessly. It was amazing. 

However, there were also no I-don’t-have-class-so-I’ll-sleep-till-noon days. Oversleeping couldn’t happen because while I’ve gone to class in sweats, it’s frowned upon in the workplace. Hangovers? Forget about it. Nobody wants a nauseous girl smelling like old cigarettes and beer hanging around, fact checking articles. In fact, going all out on a Thursday night was hard too, because work came bright and early come Friday morning. 

So while I’m hoping to one day move to New York, I’m not so sure I’m ready to be done with college yet. Admittedly, I like the comfort of living in the bubble that is Northwestern. While it may not boast the nightlife or the restaurants that I found on the east coast, it does serve as the home for some of my best friends and greatest memories. And in the meantime, I’ll hang up pictures of the city and pray for a summer internship there. 

Lesley’s looking for brunch dates- email her at l-messer@northwestern.edu