We are getting ready for New York. Manhattan. A Times Square hotel. Bonkers.
A year ago, it seemed a suitable use of my paltry tribunal payout (minus legal fees). Nothing could make up for the year of bullying and intimidation I went through, but this would surely make amends to The Teenager – ‘…..um, (sniff) just give me a minute……(wail)…..(meh)….’ He put up with a lot.
So here we are. I have two suitcases wide open. In mine – pyjamas, earplugs, moisturiser, face pack, shower gel, trainers, pen, notebook, clothes (natch), headphones, challenging novel, bubble bath, wet wipes, more wet wipes, NY guide book….
In The Teenager’s – shampoo, Lynx, SPACE for Tootsie Rolls he plans on buying and selling at school for a premium.
It’s weird. I spent a very happy six months living in New York. I was young and daft. A mere 19 years old. And now I’m taking my son there. Strange. I lived next door to a Snapples sales-man in the west village. But that was 20 years ago. It’s all changed.
What will he make of it? Could be interesting…
How will I fare with MS and Manhattan? Should I sit in a cafe and wave The Teenager off? He goes to London every month, so it’s not that different?
Will he be inspired, as I was? Will he see the similarity between the Glasgow grid system and Manhattan?
Who knows. But what I do know is his must-do list:
- Tootsie Rolls
- American t-shirts
- A hot dog from a hot dog vendor
- A taxi
- A fire escape
- Steam rising from the metro (underground?)
- Taco Bell
Wish me luck…