|Late night flower run in Paris?|
The bodegas in the
were always lit up, hocking their cigarettes and Ben and Jerry’s to a mixed lot of late night crowds. The colors of the bright spectrum of flower bouquets were always clearly visible behind the plastic drapes surrounding the store front. On St. Mark’s, the tattoo parlors proudly displayed their fresh and bruised body art on clients by hanging Polaroid photos in their windows taken just minutes post tattooing. Is it supposed to be that red? I always asked myself. East Village
Helen once remarked that she loved
because, in her estimate, only in this city could you get fresh flowers and a piercing at any time of night. And she was right. It was an observation that stuck with me and a reality that I sometimes long for here in New York . Paris was full of vitality and electricity that never died at night. Hungry mouths could always be fed and you never felt alone on the streets. New York
Corrinne Bailey Rae’s song “Paris Nights and New York Mornings” always confused me because people generally like it the other way around.
nights are what many New Yorkers live for. It’s a city where 24/7 means 24/7, not closed from 2-7AM. New York
At 3AM the other night, I walked home with my friend Fiona on one of those long evening walks, the kind that so inspired Helen in
. But New York was different. Walking from Paris Montmartre to République, there were no shops to be seen. No piercings to be had. And no glimmering lights to catch our eyes. Instead, there was just Paris and us. Our playground. Our stage.
Sometimes you have to create your own dynamism at night in order to get to the fresh coffee and warm pastries of a bright dawning
morning that make the sleepy nights worth it. So was it obnoxious to take our an I-pod and have a sing-along in the middle of the street? Probably, but there was no one there to stop us. That evening we were the only two Parisians in the city, a feeling that so few New Yorkers could ever experience. Paris