This is not my first time in New York City, not even my first time staying in Midtown Manhattan. It is the first work trip to the city and the first time I’ll be hosting client meals anywhere, but that comes with my current working life. Fortunately for the clients, they have chosen the restaurants as I picked a dud last night for myself. There are still more opportunities, though, so I’ll keep trying new places in the hopes of finding one that I remember fondly many moons from now. I am handicapped by not having had the benefit of several weeks’ advance notice regarding the trip, precluding anything requiring an advance reservation.

New York has never been my favorite city, and this will be the first time I’ve spent more than about 48 hours here. I’m going to really try to enjoy this visit, but I have always had a low-grade anxiety walking here, something different than fear. The Asian megacities I’ve visited pressed in on me, especially Delhi. There were crowds of people everywhere, a wall of traffic of all sorts of vehicles in the street, and horns blaring all the time. New York is different. Sure, it has the crowds and the traffic, but the horns are less frequent and there is much more steel and glass. New York presses down on me. It’s a different shade of mild claustrophobia and one I’ve never felt anywhere else. Surely I’m not the only person who has felt that way.