The Power of Human Connection
There are many galvanizing elements to New York City.
Its expansiveness, role as a cultural hub teeming with diversity, entertainment, myriad of career opportunities, and juxtaposition as a place where one can be surrounded by millions of other people and still sometimes feel so alone.
We like that about New York, though. The autonomy it sparks within us — as well as the chance to start anew, shake up our routines, and write a clean slate, our own bespoke narrative. Over time, however, we seek to find someone to share in New York City’s wonders and musings with.
Although, in my personal opinion, the dating landscape in New York City is not one of its more redeeming or attractive qualities.
While putting ourselves out there and being raw and real to a complete stranger may seem counterintuitive, I think it’s subconsciously doing more for us than we can realize in the moment. It’s only when we take the time to reflect, in cathartic moments like writing a story of this nature, do we grasp the impact of human connection. We make conversation, put ourselves in unique social situations, venture to neighborhoods or even boroughs that we may not do on a typical basis, and give ourselves a confidence boost we may not have even known we needed.
Sometimes, you’ll also get surprised.
This past September, I went on a date with a musician, a trombone player to be exact. His band, which is a groovy jazz funk band that travels the country touring, was playing a set at an arts and music festival in Jersey City. It was a lazy, late-summer afternoon and he asked if I would be interested and/or willing to catch the tail end of the show and then grab drinks after. I didn’t have much going on that weekend and willingly obliged.
I ended up walking through the festival for about 30 minutes waiting for his band to break down the stage after the show. Then, I received a call from an unknown number and ignored it. Little did I realize, it was the musician calling me. I called him back — he had to move his car from behind the stage but was now struggling to find a parking spot due to the regulations the town put in place to accommodate the festival. Needless to say, it ended up being at least another 30 minutes until he found a parking spot and we found each other.
We went into a bar and ended up talking nonstop for five hours. At the point of this date, I had been dating in New York City for just under two years and had experienced it all — some dates that ended after the first and others that blossomed into flings that spanned a few months, but nothing that ever developed into a concrete, long-term relationship. Conversation was very easy, we just had similar vibes and energy. I could tell this person valued his family and friends, health, and perfecting his craft as a musician. The night flew by and any thoughts of responsibilities darted out the window.
We ended up only seeing each other one more time for a second date over a month later, due to scheduling conflicts and overall business from both of us. When he told me his band was performing a 40-song set of Queen covers at a venue my friends and family love going to near my hometown, I told him how much my parents would love a show like that, but probably would never take the time out of their hectic schedules to make it work and carve out a date night.
A few days later, the musician texted me asking my parents first names. He had put them both on the band’s guest list, with complimentary tickets to the show, all they had to do was show up and say his name.
My parents went to the show and raved about it for at least two weeks after, sending me pictures and videos as proof of their night out and love for music and talented, passionate artists. Regardless of if I see the musician again, it’s occurrences like this one that demonstrate the true human connection — at the end of the day, everyone just wants to be good to one another.