Brooklyn Boy

 Quote: "A tramp, a gentleman, a poet, a dreamer, a lonely fellow, always hopeful of romance and adventure." – Charlie Chaplin

I’m sitting on the couch of a friend’s apartment in Brooklyn. The sun set hours ago but its still so hot it aches. You can feel the air as you step into the room, it covers you like a blanket and makes sweat drip down your forehead. The air conditioner busted in the tiny one bed room apartment some time ago, something that wasn’t mentioned when asked if I could stay here for a few days while working my production assistant gig.

I have to admit, its probably a good thing I didn’t know about the lack of air conditioning in advance. I would have fretted over the thought of humid air interfering with my sleep while driving around unfamiliar streets. Just like the near panic attack I had before climbing into a Mystery Machine style van to pick up all the equipment from various stores in Manhattan. I’d never driven a vehicle that large and navigating Manhattan traffic proved difficult in my tiny Ford Focus. And parking? Forget about it.

But I got through it. I drove slow, kept my eyes peeled and survived. That’s how it always seems to go. Tomorrow I’ll wake up at some ungodly hour and begin the frantic running around that goes along with being a PA. I will stress, feel overwhelmed and then it will end. The days will turn into a memory and the time spent, will have earned a pay check.

I walked along the streets of Brooklyn with Ali, my fellow intern. It had rained for a few minutes, but the promised thunder storm never made an appearance so the heat hadn’t broke. Still the roads were soaked and glowing in a way that makes me smile. I thought about the soaked pavement back at my suburban New Jersey home. There was a spot under the street light that seemed to glow when it rained. So many nights I had come home late and just basked in the quiet beauty. I always took note of it when saying goodbye to girlfriends when they left my house late at night. Here the slick streets still glow, but in a different way. It’s like the pavement is alive, another character in my story. You don’t just notice the mist as you walk, instead the air envelops you. 

It’s the same but different, is what I’m probably trying to say. The roads are wet and glistening, but nothing is the same. It’s a good change. I drank a beer with some of the crew, people I’d just met in a quiet candle lit bar. I hadn’t known them a day ago but there we were. Its happened several times in the productions I’ve participated in this summer. I can’t help but feel excitement as I bond with virtual strangers who dream the way I do. I keep quiet mostly, listening, taking it in. Depending on how long I work with them factors into just how much I come out of my shell. Tonight I just surveyed the situation, feeling lucky to just be a part of all this.

I’ll be back in New Jersey Wednesday afternoon. Back to my comfortably cold childhood bedroom, posters lining the walls, pictures of friends and family on my dresser. It’ll be safe and deep down I’ll know I’m just as lucky to have a place like that to go home to. Still, the adventure that has become everyday life has been fantastic.