New York

I've always fantasized about a life in New York.  Something like a rickety fire escape, a big black kettle on the ancient stove, cracked tiles, snow and cigarettes.  I've written so many stories about New York; true be told,  it's become my only source of inspiration.   It's always been a pipe dream.   A fantasy.  A place to take my imagination.

Now, it has the potential to become reality. A job opportunity has literally fallen into my lap.  The means of my contact is a story in and of itself.  The brief version: an old client, with whom I engage in extremely inappropriate conversation, has dropped my name for a newly abandoned position.   Within hours of learning this, the hiring manager had my resume in his hands and will be calling me soon to discuss the opportunity.

I'm torn already and the phone has not even rung.  I am content in my life here in Chicago.  I have a decent job, amazing friends, a killer apartment and a parking spot to claim my own (unheard of).  My family is nearby.  I know the best beaches, the best bars, the best eats and how to get just about anywhere.  The Chicago El system is a vivid image in my mind and I can get you from O'Hare to a Sox game for $2.50. 

I know nothing of New York, save the images I've created and the movies I've seen.  The subway is three times the size of Chicago and the vast neighborhoods are daunting to learn.

But I am pulled (in both directions).   I can't wait to see how the conversation goes.  If I don't land an interview, then hey, it was fun to dream for a few days.   If I do land an interview, I'll nail it, because that's what I do.  I would have to go. Even if only a year, I would have to try it.  Home will always be Chicago, and it's only a plane ride away.  But do I want to leave home?  For somewhere I've never been and know no one?  Not even my contact lives in NY, he's in the LA office...  my nearest friend is in Jersey and a few acquaintances in Queens.

Come on, phone.  Ring.