Little Brett, Big City

I had learned the hard way I couldn't walk with The World's Heaviest Briefcase to job interviews in New York. I was no match for August humidity and the miles between my room at the Sloane House YMCA and any downtown appointments. The time had come to conquer the New York City subway. I thought I was smart to try it right before noon, beyond the morning rush. But people still bumped into me as I descended tight steps into a hot station. Wearing my new "New Yorker" face, I tried matching their pace but failed. Within seconds, I was an annoyed human pinball, bouncing against shoulders and backpacks.  Hundreds of people raced passed me like it was rush hour anyway. "Directional" signs hung low from dark ceilings, listing Penn Station, the LIRR, New Jersey Transit, and the New York City subway. I didn't understand where they were leading.  I floated over to a grimy token booth. The clerk within was a lone sentinel, aloof to the frenetic energy outside. Cool

The day of my first job interview in New York was steamy but overcast, so my gray wool suit would make feel only 50 degrees hotter instead of 100. I had smoothed out my shirt and suit the night before on my bed at the YMCA with my travel iron. I also touched up my burgundy penny loafers with a little Vaseline for extra shine. Before I left, I even dabbed a little Polo Ralph Lauren cologne on my neck.  Head held high, I walked out of the Y with The World's Heaviest Briefcase just like a New Yorker. The kaleidoscope of storefronts and taxis on 34th Street was beginning to feel familiar to me.  I stopped at a cart for a $1 raisin bagel that nearly splattered my silk tie with cream cheese when I bit into it. I scarfed down the rest of the bagel, leaning out over the curb to avoid a wardrobe crisis.  PR agency Grant, Townsend, Frost and Osborne (GTFO) was downtown on 5th Avenue, near 15th Street. I knew I had to tackle the subway soon, but I wasn't ready that day. What if I got lost

My 1989 began at Bowling Green State University with Poison's "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" still in the #1 spot on the Billboard chart.  Still catchy today, the song extended the reign of 80s music staple, the "power ballad." As their popularity grew, many metal bands aimed to crossover to pop heights by melting teen hearts with romantic odes to the challenges of love.  The tunes were often accompanied by videos where the notorious bad boys showed their softer sides with concert footage of themselves looking homesick and drunk: See Motley Crue's "Home Sweet Home" and Bon Jovi's "Never Say Goodbye." According to Wikipedia, Bret Michaels told VH1's "Behind The Music" that the inspiration for Poison's only #1 song came from a night when he was in a laundromat in Dallas waiting for his clothes to dry and called his girlfriend on a pay phone. Bret said he heard a male voice in the background and was devastated. He went back

Photo Credit: Wikimedia Commons/MWichary I napped in my stuffy room at the Y after escaping the prostitute in Times Square. I woke with a start, confused, dry eyes darting around to process my location. The afternoon sun was lower outside. Right. I was at the YMCA. I had been a New Yorker for almost 24 hours. I went out and bought the Sunday New York Times , thick as a brick, for the classified section and a $1 slice of pizza for dinner. I then spent the evening immersed in each section, reading for clues that could help turn me into a real New Yorker. I tore out the ads for the museums and movies I wanted to see.  I gasped at a big headline on the front page: "New York Telephone Talks Break Down; Strike Continues"  So what did that mean for pay phones? Like the one down the hall, my main link to my job search? Did it stop working? I did not have time for this. I needed to make as many calls as I could the next few days.  And there would be plenty to make. The front page of