June 9, 2019

The earliest memories I have of this glorious city date back to the late ’90s, when I was a child watching “Big Daddy.” Shoutout to whoever thought it was a good idea for a 5 year old to watch “Big Daddy”, but nonetheless the movie is iconic and gave me a slight picture of what this city has to offer.

The vast concrete jungle is only a 6 hour flight away from California, but seemed so far away. I’d never think I’d make it to NYC, let alone out of California.

I am grateful for my aunt Sabrina for being a Derek Jeter fan. Her infatuation with Jeter influenced me to root for the Yankees. I remember being 11 years old in ’05 and watching the Yankees play the Angels in the ALDS. Alex Rodriguez grounded into a double play in the 9th inning with the Yankees down 5–3. The Yankees were on their way to being eliminated. I turned the television off and went to bed crying, feeling that somehow the fact that I watched the game had an impact on the outcome.

Fast forward to 2009 and the Yankees win the World Series against the Phillies. I knew then that I had to make my way to the city sooner, rather than later.

The trip eventually came in 2013, on the tail end of my freshman year of college at the University of Oregon. Earlier that year, I bought a ticket to Coachella and immediately sold it when the Governor’s Ball Music Festival lineup was released. Headlining a day after his birthday was none other than Kanye West.

Now I just needed money for the flight.

Luckily I have a gracious, wonderful, beautiful mother that has allowed me to see and do things that she never got to do. There hasn’t been a time when I asked my mother for money in order to experience something and she said no.

I believe she is willing to send me money because she wants me to experience things she never got the chance to. As a teenage mother her focus was raising me and not having fun. She paid for my flight and I was set.

I booked an AirBnB in East Harlem and was on my way. I flew into LaGuardia, the same place I would fly into 5 years later and begin the life I have now. The music festival was in early June, on a Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Kanye was performing Sunday night, just 9 days before Yeezus dropped.

As the plane approached the airport I looked out the window and was in awe. Beneath me was a sea of bright lights clawing at the sky. I was slightly afraid of the undiscovered landscape I was about to enter, but also ready to conquer whatever lurked in the shadows.

I arrived at the AirBnB a little after midnight and slept soundly throughout the night.

I woke up that morning and checked my weather app. It was supposed to rain all day, and it did. Most of that night’s acts were cancelled. Saturday wasn’t any better. The rain was gone but the damage was done. What was once green and inviting was now a scene out of “Silent Hill.” Trash littered the floor. Puddles of water scattered the park like mines in a ghostly battlefield. All I had to protect my feet were an old pair of Vans that were now soiled with mud.

My experience on Friday and Saturday did not portray New York in a good light. After seeing the bright lights, my expectations shot through the roof and here I was sweaty with muddy shoes on my way back to my AirBnb.

One thing that did help was my access to alcohol. I was 19 years old at the time and getting my hands on alcohol in a city where I knew no one wasn’t the easiest thing to accomplish. Luckily, I’m resourceful.

My AirBnB host, a lovely East African woman, had a bottle of vodka on top of her refrigerator. I helped myself to some and refilled the bottle with water. To this day, I’m not sure whether she noticed. I did receive a lovely review from her upon returning home, so I’m guessing the watered down vodka still hit.

Sneaking alcohol into the festival was a breeze, but once that bottle was finished, I wanted more. And I needed a plan.

HiChews was one of many companies sponsoring the music festival. For anyone who hasn’t had the savory candy, it’s basically a mixture of a Starburst and gum, less sticky than gum but chewier than a Starburst.

After finding a 21+ wristband that someone had discarded on the ground, I used a HiChew to keep both ends of the wristband together. No one ID’d me the entire weekend and I drank freely. Problem solved right? Nah.

I can buy alcohol now, but I don’t have money to buy $15 beers.

Beer vendors displayed their beer to entice festival-goers. These beers were strictly on display, not available for purchase and thus warm.

I approached a booth while the cashiers were distracted and grabbed the warm beer off the ledge.

After helping myself to a warm beer, I approached a different vendor. They gladly exchanged my warm beer for an ice cold one.

I did this Friday, Saturday, and Sunday without a hiccup.

Part 2

As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned not to show up to rap concerts early. It took me until about the age of 21 to understand that rappers are notoriously late. Even if they do show up on the time, being in the front of a crowd is terrible.

It feels like you’re being sandwiched between the weight of the entire crowd and the barricade. Nowadays I show up hours after doors open. Back then I waited for insane amounts of time to be able to get the best view.

I did this for Mr. West. I got to the festival grounds early that day and immediately went to the stage that Kanye would perform at 10 hours later.

10 hours is a long time to wait. You don’t want to risk losing your spot at the front, so you do desperate things like urinate in a Bud Light bottle multiple times throughout the day.

I was in the front row and despite being fatigued, dirty, and smelly, I was elated to see Kanye drop snippets of Yeezus and perform classics like “Can’t Tell Me Nothing”, “All Falls Down”, and “Diamonds from Sierra Leone.”

Everything is great and everything is happening just as I hoped. The crowd is lively, the raps are infectious, and Kanye’s energy is otherworldly.

Then this motherfucker decides he wants to move locations. I didn’t realize this when I first made my way to the front, but there was another platform in the middle of the crowd. Security guards surround Kanye and he briskly walks to this adjacent stage and stays there the rest of the show.

I waited 10 hours to get a prime view of this man and now I can barely see him. Other than that Kanye put on an unforgettable spectacle.

Kanye and Jay Z both recite a phrase near the end of their performances that resonates all these years later. It goes something like this, “you could be anywhere in the world but you’re here with me.” There I was, 19-years-old in New York City for the first time watching my favorite artist perform his greatest hits. Bliss.

I did not get to explore the city as I intended to during my trip, because I was more concerned with being at the music festival.

I did however get to visit the Statue of Liberty and parade through Times Square. I don’t know what it is, but I still get this feeling walking around in the city. Towering buildings fill the horizon, crowds of people speed walk to their next destination, and it hits me, like damn this shit is real. I’m really out here. I had that feeling then and I still have it now. Like damn I am really out here living in New York City.

I got a taste of the city in 2013 and I wanted more. I wanted to experience it for more than a brief period of time. I got my chance when I started “dating” a girl who lived in Brooklyn. I use the term “dating” lightly because it’s hard to date someone when you’re 3000 miles from NYC in college.

I’ll spare the theatrics and keep this brief. In short, she and I fell for each other and fell hard. I think we were just two broken souls looking for someone to confide in, and that we did. It helped that the sex was impeccable. It was like our bodies were meant for each other. I visited her 4–5 times from 2016–2018, before we called things off in April of 2018.

At the start of 2018, I knew the my work contract was ending later that year. I told everyone I knew that I was leaving, and suggested they cherish the moments we have together now, because Ruben was out, come late 2018.

Speaking things into existence works. Don’t be crazy with your talk, but be reasonable. Don’t repeatedly tell yourself you’re going to win the lottery or become president. Set goals for yourself that are obtainable. To this day I still have flash cards posted on my wall with goals that I want to and will accomplish.

I’d be lying if I told you that girl I fell for didn’t have some influence on me deciding between New York City and other places I was offered jobs. I still had thoughts of wedding this girl and spending a life together.

I’m grateful all of that fell through, but I’m also grateful for the memories we shared. I won’t ever speak ill about a girl that I loved or a homie that I rode with. There’s enough negativity in this world. There’s no need to spill more hatred. People have their issues. People have demons. Everyone is going through something. I just hope people find the strength to better themselves and end up happy.

I’m at a point in my life where I’m actually happy. It took me 25 years to find happiness, but it’s finally here. I’m 5 months sober (off the alcohol). I have a job in a fancy ass building and access to everything I could ever want.

People always ask me if I’m ever going to return to California. I joke and tell ’em, only if someone dies or gets married. That answer is cruel, but it’s partly true. Some crazy job offer or some devastating family event (knocks on wood) would need to happen for me to leave this place. I love New York City way too much.

California is a dream. The women are beautiful. The beaches are tranquil. The weed is insanely fire. If I grew up in Calabasas in an affluent neighborhood surrounded by happy memories, maybe I’d want to go back and settle. But I didn’t, I grew up in Visalia, California, where there’s not much to aspire to. I have a lot of great memories in California and a lot of bad ones. The bad outweighs the good.

For now, catch me in New York City, buying $50 8ths, eating $2 hot dogs, riding the train and loving every single second of my new life that I deserve.