Back to Jersey

Every so often, I would go back to Jersey to pick up or drop off some stuff. Sometimes, I would go back to get away from the busy city. Living in the city is what I always wanted, diverse, artistic, and unique. I felt like I could be myself and do things my way. I thought I had forgotten everything that was left behind, but one trip made me realize my heart never left...

It was Friday night, as I met up with some friends in the city to do the usual happy hour bar thing. I was getting jaded from the whole bar scene, but that seems to be what everyone else is doing, meeting people, finding someone or plural, and getting away from the stressful work. I didn’t really want to go, but thinking its better than nothing, I dragged myself to meet up with them.

It was what I expected, girls dancing like fools and guys staring. People talked about all kinds of things and everyone seemed to have a good time. I, myself, was trying to enjoy the moment away from work, and to be honest, was trying to hitch a ride from my friend D’ to go back to Jersey for a weekend of St. Patty’s good times at my friend Marvin's newly allocated place, Philly. So I sucked it up.

We had dinner at some Italian restaurant, and I was trying my hardest not to seem zoned out. When is this whole thing going to be over, I thought to myself. It was, actually, better than I expected. We had good chats while some entertained us with riddles. We ended the night with handshakes and hugs, then parted our ways.

Two of my friends sat in the front, one of them drove. I sat in the back to have some alone time and relax. They started ranting about work and salary. I sat there quietly having some random thoughts. Are we boring you there Tony? John jokingly asked. No... well, I’m just tired from work, I replied.

After the long ride, D’ dropped me off and drove home. I went in the front door to surprise my parents, and saw they had bought a new flat screen TV. My mom looked vaguely excited, perhaps to hide her joy of seeing me. My dad, as usual, was too busy watching TV down stairs to notice my presence. After playing around few minutes with the new TV, I went to my room to prepare for a long train ride the next day.

I woke up the next morning noticing my mom had knitted the ripped sweater that I stopped wearing. I saw my dad and asked him to drop me off at the train station. Where are you going? he asked. To Philly visiting my friends, I told him. I could sense the despair in his voice, as he was hoping I would stick around longer. He never says too much, and I never know what to say in front of him. Somehow words could never come out between us.

"How could anyone like living in Jersey?"

It was a tedious train ride as I sat at the window seat. The view was unsurprisingly horrid, filled with warehouses and disfigured roads and trees. How could anyone like living in Jersey? Then I started thinking about my relationship with my dad, and how I could amend the differences between us. I thought about my teenage years in Jersey. They say people tend to remember the good memories, but I thought hard and all I could think of was the abominable times.

I arrived at the Trenton station, the slum of all train stations, as I called it. It is small, dirty, and debilitated. I waited for about forty-five minutes and hopped on the Septa train to 30th street, as the scenery and vibe became more pleasant, along with my mood. I thought about the people and situations I had left behind. I do not miss anything about Jersey, I thought.

Marvin was waiting for me at the platform. The same old Marvin the Martian, his nickname, was still positive and garrulous. He had moved out of his parent’s house after some argument and quit his job, but he was still able to keep his optimism. Yo! He shouted, sounding a bit disappointed for others flaking out on him. We started off at the train station bar and walked our way around. It was packed everywhere and filled with college drunks who were having a good time. I miss those college days, I said to Marvin, but deep down, I wouldn’t go back. It’s just not the same anymore.

We continued to walk, but avoided most bars due to crowdedness. We grabbed some quick bite and found places to sit and just talk about things. Marvin recalled the old memories and people we met during our partying days. We then talked about the managers at the retail store we used to work at part-time. You called a customer a bitch! Marvin laughed. Yup, it was good times, I smirked. I missed those days, Marvin said. Yea but it’s different now, I noted.

"It’s not the decor that makes a place memorable, it’s the people that brings out the best of the surroundings, making it spectacle."

We met up with Jane, Marvin’s girlfriend who went to the same high school as me and also worked at the retail store, for dinner at this fusion restaurant in Downtown Philly. The food wasn’t that great. It was different and came with small portions that resembled all the stereotypical expensive hip restaurants. Jane started talking, didn’t you think Edison was the best place to live in? No... well, I guess it’s the best place in Jersey... but Jersey sucks, I said.

She then started asking me all the questions, about the mutual friends we know, and who I thought was attractive. Somehow she started digging and all the dirt that I had in high school came out. Wow! Marvin laughed. Shit Jane, you better make it up to me somehow... and make sure none of this gets out, I told her.

I started reminiscing, and recalled the good times that I had in Jersey. I lived in many parts of the States before Jersey, although Jersey is certainly not the most gracious place as an understatement, it resembled the best times I had throughout my life. I realized, it’s not the decor that makes a place memorable, it’s the people that brings out the best of the surroundings, making it spectacle.

"People change, in a way that they’ve moved on with their lives. But they are still the same, in a sense that they are still who they were."

We paid our bills and left the restaurant. Marvin and Jane walked me to the station. You better make it up to me next time for digging those dirt out of me, I said to Jane jokingly. We said our goodbyes and I hopped on the train back to New York. Philly is a nice city, but nothing can compare to New York.

It was another long ride back, going by Trenton and passing through Jersey. This time, I left with good memories and a smile. I wish I can go back, to the same Jersey that I once remembered, but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. People change, in a way that they’ve moved on with their lives. But they are still the same, in a sense that they are still who they were.

I do wish things are like the way they used to be, but more so that I will be able to have similar feelings in the wonderful NYC. It takes time, I thought to myself, and slept on the rest of the way back home.