And how I’ve learned so much from her.

When I first moved to New York, I didn’t really understand what I was getting into. Growing up just over an hour from the city, I’d come here many, many times since I was a young girl. Mostly for Broadway shows and seasonal things, like gawking at the Rockefeller Tree and shopping in Bryant Park. I even commuted in three days a week for an internship at Fitness in the summer of 2009.

But when you move here, you become immersed in the culture beyond what you’ve seen in episodes of Sex and the City. You learn about bodegas and the cats that reside within. You learn what it means if a subway car is empty during rush hour. You learn that every show you’ve ever watched about NYC lied about real estate. You learn about the pizza, and where to get the best slices. You learn about suggested admission. You learn about “showtime.” You learn that everything you used to do when you were just visiting the city was probably a little lame, from happy hour at Johnny Utahs to waiting in line at Magnolia Bakery (even though the banana pudding is legit). 

A life-changing lesson I learned within the first few months of living here? Real New Yorkers go out during the week. Like, out out. On Mondays. And Tuesdays. And Wednesdays.

I had just walked in the door to my flex two-bedroom apartment on 89th Street on a Tuesday night back in 2012. It was springtime. I was working at CafeMom as an editorial assistant. A friend of mine from college called, asking me if I wanted to join him for dinner. It was his birthday. 

“A bunch of people are coming, and my friend’s getting the bill. Just come.”

“When and where?” I asked.

“Beauty & Essex at 9:30.” 

Something I haven’t mentioned yet: When I moved to New York, I came with a to-do list of 115+ things. Toting the names of restaurants and museums, activities like “walk across the Brooklyn Bridge” and “stay out until dawn,” checking things off the to-do list was how I filled up my time outside of work and working out. On the top of that list? Go to Beauty & Essex — a restaurant tucked behind a fully functional pawnshop in the Lower East Side where they serve complimentary champagne in the bathroom (there’s even a plush, pink seating area to enjoy it next to the sinks) and warm tomato soup dumplings that’ll change your life.

I didn’t love the idea of going to dinner at 9:30 because, well, that was (and still is) around my bedtime. But if someone else was going to be covering the tab (remember: editorial assistant), then I figured I should get dressed up, take the slow-moving M15 bus downtown, and scrounge up my own change to take a cab back home at a reasonable hour. 

I was in.

I won’t go into all of the details, but there were plenty of lessons learned that night. Firstly, there are a lot of people that live in this city that have deep pockets. Within seconds of sitting down at a half-moon banquet in a dimly lit upstairs nook regulars called “The Pearl,” the entire menu showed up in front of us. Like, at least a thousand dollars worth of food. Before I could even ask about the tuna poke wonton tacos, champagne followed suit, carried by beautiful women wearing snug dresses with sparklers in tow.

That’s when things slowly began to get hazy. I sat there in awe, sipping my own personal bottle, watching a DJ tucked away inside a small booth near the staircase about 200 feet away. Before I knew it, dinner was followed by dancing at Le Bain, my friend asking if we should get a hotel room (my response: “We LIVE HERE! Why would we do that?”), and me finally ending up back in my bed on the Upper East Side sometime around 2 a.m. with a 7:30 work alarm looming over my not-exactly-sober self. 

After that night, my New York life changed. I made a lot of good friends that worked in hospitality and specifically, at Beauty & Essex. I started regularly incorporating late weeknight outings to the PHD rooftop (among other spots), pregamed only with a solid post-work nap and laying out my office-ready clothes for the next day. Somehow back then, I was entirely capable of staying out as late as I wanted and getting up early with out repercussions. I prided myself in the fact that I could get home in the wee hours of the morning and still make it to a 7:10 a.m. overcrowded Barry’s Bootcamp class in Chelsea, no issue whatsoever.

So. Fast forward about 6 years.

On Tuesday of this week, I was going about my normal routine, biking to one of my favorite cafes after doing a track workout. I found myself rolling across Essex Street, between Rivington and Stanton, staring at a closed Beauty & Essex. I slowed my roll (literally). I pulled off to the side for a few seconds. I thought about all of the nights I had there. The outfits I wore. The relationships I made — so many wonderful humans, of whom have moved on to do unbelievable things, few of them actually still living here in New York. I think about the girl I was then compared to the woman I am now. A woman with a bigger understanding of just how much this beautiful place has to offer.

Let me tell you: I haven’t been a big “going out” person for some time now, but you know what I could go for?

Some champagne in the bathroom.

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PROMPT: What’s something from 10-or-so years ago that has played a big part in who you are today? What did it teach you?