“You’re So New York.”

What does that mean?

"You'll see!"

Williamsburg, Brooklyn - June 22, 2025

We land at JFK airport and catch an Uber to the Arlo Hotel in Williamsburg. It’s 100 degrees outside. The room is small and cozy, chic and expensive-looking. The AC blasts cold air, and we collapse into a nap before rallying.

Later, we take the elevator up to the rooftop pool. A DJ is spinning, and the scene is pure cinema: people dancing, flirting, sweating, vibing. The Empire State Building is in the background. We share the elevator with a group of fifty-something couples who look like they’ve taken Molly.

Joe's

We slip out and wander Williamsburg until we find a dive bar playing Game 7 of the NBA Finals. The Oklahoma City Thunder take the gold. I have a couple of pints and some wings. Afterward, we hit up Joe's Pizza for a late-night slice. There are photos of famous people on the wall, including DiCaprio and J. Cole. I ordered one slice of the pepperoni and one slice of the white sauce with fresh ricotta. The hype is real, my friends: thin, crispy, and baked to perfection. Back at the hotel, we shared the elevator again. This time, there were two women in their early 20s wearing tiny bikinis, high heels, heavy perfume, and carrying cute designer bags. A much older, average-looking man swipes his hotel key card to let them in.

Williamsburg, Brooklyn

The next day, we wandered Williamsburg.

Rooftop Pool with a view of Williamsburg, Brooklyn

Sammy led us to a Moroccan-inspired breakfast spot with a shaded outdoor patio and blessed AC. I ordered the halloumi eggs Benedict, and we lingered over our meal before meandering back to the hotel for another rooftop pool session. The Empire State Building loomed in the distance. I felt like the star of a movie. We sipped $50 piña coladas in the pool. Expensive? Yes. Worth it? Absolutely. New York is for the rich.

That night, Sammy had booked us dinner at Le Crocodil, a Michelin-starred French restaurant. I wore my favourite blue sundress and carried a BCBG Max Mara purse on loan from my mom. We ordered oysters and white wine to start, followed by gnocchi, steak frites, and a Pinot Noir. At a nearby table, I spotted an actor from Friends & Neighbours, dining with his family. We ended the night with a strawberry crumble and fresh cream. I dreamt of that meal and fell asleep satisfied.

The best steak I have ever had

Hotel Guest Mode: Activated

The next day, we fully embraced our rich hotel guest fantasy. Private gym. Poolside lounging. Spa robes. Repeat.

Later, Sammy reconnected with an old friend from his early days in the tech industry — an effortlessly charismatic individual who shared bold, memorable stories from his life, including his experiences navigating the startup world as a Black, gay man with courage and authenticity.

That evening, we met up with Pri Pri, my childhood friend and my sister’s best friend, at a bar in Union Square. We hadn’t seen each other in seven years. Now, she’s married with two kids, the chief of staff at a tech company, and thriving. She discussed her travel plans and how much she enjoys being a working mom. We laughed about our Jakarta upbringing, shared memories, and imagined what Jess might be doing now - married to a billionaire, probably, yachting along the Monaco coast.

The Grand Finale: Omakase & Hamilton

On our final night in New York, Sammy took me to Torishin, a Japanese omakase restaurant. It was serene - no music, just four or five chefs preparing each course in a slow, meditative rhythm.

The meal began with a perfectly cooked chicken breast and a single tomato - the best tomato I’ve ever had. Then came a delicate chicken oyster (the thigh meat near the hip bone), followed by heart and intestines. A palate-cleansing course of grated daikon and soy sauce came next.

Torishin

We moved on to a tender, steamed black cod fillet, and I finished the savoury portion with a deeply comforting chicken broth featuring enoki mushrooms and a fresh Japanese green. The seaweed salad was darker, fresher, and richer than any sushi spot I’ve been to. Dessert? A flawless shaved-ice sorbet infused with a fragrant Japanese green herb.

Then, we rushed to Broadway to see Hamilton by Lin-Manuel Miranda. I have been listening to the Hamilton soundtrack for years.

A Musical, A Moment

The theatre was packed. Not a single empty seat in the house. I cried and sang through the entire production. I’ve been listening to Hamilton for years, and finally seeing it live on Broadway felt surreal.

Though I don’t know much about American history, I’ve always loved that the cast of Hamilton is primarily people of colour. I had assumed Hamilton himself was a person of colour, only to learn in New York that this isn’t the case. Hamilton was a white man, possibly anti-slavery, though there’s no clear evidence he ever owned slaves. His peers, the founding fathers of America - George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison - were also white, and they owned hundreds of enslaved people during their lifetimes.

The Schuyler sisters, whom I had romanticized, were white women from a wealthy slaveholding family. They are always played by women of colour, however.

So, yes, Hamilton is historically inaccurate, but it is essential to remember that it is a work of fiction intended for entertainment, a bold, inspiring, genre-defying piece of art. The cast was electric. The choreography was executed with passion. The experience was unforgettable.

I was utterly captivated. I didn’t want it to end. I cried the whole time, tears of joy, that this kind of entertainment exists. The finest singers, dancers, and actors in America and beyond take the stage every night, giving their all. We rose for a standing ovation at the end.

We exit the theatre onto Times Square and the lyrics, "give my regards to Broadway," swim through my head.