This is the fifth installment of Cajun Tomato’s NYC 100, a daily series chronicling my experiences and observations as a new New Yorker. For previous dispatches click here.
On Thursday night I crossed the border into New Jersey in a way that felt both illegal and alien. Or, more accurately, reminded me of the perils an illegal alien might encounter trying to pass unnoticed into a southwest state.
After finishing promo work Thursday night, I had plans to travel to Montclair, New Jersey, to see French synth-pop act M83 play the Wellmont Theatre. Long story short: The party I went with ended up larger than expected.
Thus, instead of sitting in the cab of my girlfriend Kerry’s 14-foot yogurt truck, I ended up sitting in the back on a palette. The other guy in the back insisted we leave the light off.
So we rode the 18-mile distance in the dark, bouncing along with every pothole, uncertain where we were or, in my case, what east Jersey looked like on an October night. The ride lasted more than an hour. Kerry’s truck is not allowed on parkways, I learned after we arrived at our destination.
Did I mention this was my first time in Jersey?
Next time I’ll take a train.
Check back Tuesday for the sixth installment of Cajun Tomato’s NYC 100.