I journeyed to the wilds of Connecticut on Saturday to see my friend Monica, her husband, and their newly-purchased house. As we were making plans, she asked me if I needed to do any suburban shopping. I thought and thought, and much to my surprise, the answer was no.
For the first few months I lived in New York, I felt like I was running a small import company (not Vandelay Industries). I would grocery shop over my lunch break and bring things home on the train. I’d shop in Maine and stuff my suitcase. On my last day of work in Connecticut, I went on a Target run that filled both the trunk and backseat of my car.
But now? I think I may have started to get the hang of this whole city thing. I have a couple little markets I frequent. There are a few items I prefer to have delivered, and I’ve found a service I like for that. And, to feed that suburban shopping hunger, I finally made the pilgrimage to the Target in Harlem. And it was amazingly simple to get there and get back home with all my purchases.
It’s like I figured out one more piece of this puzzle.
