Chapter 2 - NYC

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Note: Two Different Point of Views will be introduced.

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JULIA FERRIS

I peer out my window, scrutinizing the thick layer of snow that has appeared over New York City. I look down at my feet, admiring my beautiful Louboutins that brought me to this side of the world, and debate on whether I can actually manage walking in the snow in high heels.

I let out a huff in the silence of my one bedroom apartment. “So much for that,” I whisper, knowing very well that there is no way I could do it when I don’t even know how to deal with the snow in the first place.

My shoulders droop with the realization that what I thought would be my perfect “first day of work shoes” aren’t going to work at all. I walk the short distance to my room and search through my unpacked box of shoes, and quickly get ahold of my black ballerina flats. Holding them in my hand I am already unsatisfied, and I realize even then that flats, be it safe, still aren’t the smartest plan. I’ll be freezing!

I’ve been in New York City less than one week and I already feel in over my head with the first snow fall. I heave in a deep breath.

Then it hits me. I take off my heels, and slip them into my purse, forcing them inside —but to fit none the less! I grab for my Ugg boots, giggling at the fact that this boot will actually serve its purpose in the cold, rather than being a cute add-on to my Southern Californian winter outfits.

I feel like a genius, fist pumping the air, but the moment I slip the boots on I realize how ridiculous I look when matched with my black pencil skirt, and emerald green blouse. 

I roll my eyes, thinking I will have to be clever about this.

“How the hell do the glamorous woman of this city do it?” I huff, peering up at the time, realizing I need to catch the subway. I’m still early, but it seems I will have to do a bit of a wardrobe change before my first day. I grab for my thick, black pea coat, and make my way downstairs. I scurry down the steps until something catches my eye.

A woman. My jaw drops, fueled by my instant jealousy. She has just entered the building from the bitter morning cold, and she still manages to look refreshed … and beautiful. Her blond pixie cut compliments her petite face and bright red lips, and her navy blue coat matches beautifully with blue-suede high-heels. 

I am frozen to the spot, filled with curiosity. The moment I watch her check her mail box I note that she must live in my building. Maybe she could be my first friend? I am tempted to ask her how she does it? Seeing this woman I realize the difference between the east, and west coast style, and gosh darn-it, I am envious. 

How can I manage this transition?

The woman, as if realizing she is being watched, turns around while holding a handful of mail. Her eyes are a deep hazel color, and though I would assume she might be a bit shocked at my obvious gawking, she raises her eyebrow, as if to challenge me.

I don’t understand it. It feels like a form of culture shock. My manners want to kick in, and I am on the brink of an apology, but her intense stare has me thinking that isn’t such a good idea. I close my mouth, offer a tight smile, and rush out the door. I feel her eyes on me until I make it outside.

Well, that was a bit painful.

I roll my eyes, buttoning up my coat, and head to the subway entrance only a few blocks away. I take a few steps and wonder if I will make it the distance with the frigid wind, and if I could ever get used to this.

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