Tag Archives: CAFÉ CARLYLE

THE AMERICAN BLACKSTORY 2024

NYC, DAY 5 — Finale

Last night in NYC & the city had me fully feeling myself.

Valerie June, Louis Mendes, Joe Hammond, Tiffany & Co., Selena Nelson, Spike Lee.

By this point, you couldn’t tell NYC Joy nothinggg.

And she had a thought.

That first night, no one expected Valerie June to exit into the main hotel.

On my last night, I could use that knowledge to squeeze one more drop of magic from the Big Apple.

Worst case scenario, I was all dressed up for a Saturday evening in NYC. Oh, no.

So I called a car to take me back to Café Carlyle where this all began.

For the next 15 or 20 minutes, I slunk around their lobby trying not to be weird. Temperatures were in the 30s most of my time in NYC, and I’m too old to choose cute over comfortable, so to hotel guests and passersby, I was just some creep in a coat.

Just as I was reaching peak levels of awkwardness, the café door swung open and Valerie June rushed out in a wave of pink tulle…

Until her dress snagged on someone/something along the way, jerking her back like a pull-string doll.

It was the most adorably ordinary thing I may have ever seen.

And snapped me back to the reality that I was WOEFULLY unprepared.

Another fan nearby clutched a VJ album and book with a blue Sharpie.

I’d shown up with absolutely nothing but a story about how I’d seen her in Austin just the week before and my NY-given swag.

You ever looked back on a moment and realized that your brain was the real MVP, working faster than you were actually processing thought?

Did I have any writing utensil? No.

Did I have a single scrap of paper? Of course not.

Would it be silly for her to sign a key card from a totally different hotel? Absolutely.

But Valerie June’s setlist had included one of my favorites, “Workin’ Woman Blues.”

And what I DID have was a $20 bill. And somebody else’s Sharpie.

“Can I ask you to sign something too… And can it be a twenty-dollar bill?”

With an infectious giggle that rippled through her curled locs and pink tulle dress, VJ remarked that nobody had ever asked her that before.

After the way NYC met me, it made my heart happy to leave behind a lasting impression of my own.

[Ed. Note: This post is part of a one-time February 2024 mini-series that took me to NYC where I was treated to an abundance of Blackstories first-hand. In place of my usual February content, I chose to share my own real-time (-ish) lived experience to honor the vibrant people New York put in my path.]

THE AMERICAN BLACKSTORY 2024

NYC, DAY 1 — January 30

Already doing the most before I’ve landed in the City.

A work leadership program kicked off in NYC on the same day I was scheduled to pitch a new client.

I could have thought, “That’s plenty. I’m good.”

But a week before, @thevaleriejune stole my heart live in Austin before mentioning she’d be in New York the following week. WELL, OK GIRL, ME TOO!

When she revealed her venue as the Cafe Carlyle, a tiny hotel cabaret that had once hosted David Bowie, Eartha Kitt, Judy Collins and so many more, I couldn’t even pretend I wasn’t trying to go.

OF COURSE the only tickets available were on the night of my arrival, the night before the pitch and the leadership launch.

And OF COURSE I BOUGHT ONE ANYWAY.

So we came into NYC HOT, changed in the JFK bathroom, and headed straight to the Cafe Carlyle, luggage and all.

And man, did the city rise to meet me.

I’d stressed over how late I was arriving. I was the first person at the bar with my pick of stage view seating in a room capacity of 90.

I’d worried I’d sit there falling asleep after a long travel day, or worse, small-talking with a stranger. Instead, two separate and vibrant Black women sat down next to me, and became my new friends.

And when the show started, Valerie June appeared in a doorway all of 5 feet away from us, singing a capella, playing a tambourine, and channeling every bit of her southern Black roots.

Time stood still until without any warning, she whisked all her sequins out the venue’s main door, leaving her audience pinned to their seats and still pending checks.

Valerie June reads her poem “A Fairy Tale” live at the Café Carlyle

Both times I’ve seen Valerie June now, it’s felt like those dreams you wake up from and try desperately to fall back asleep into. It’s so good, then it’s just… over.

My new friends and I tried to hold onto the night as long as we could, chatting with GRAMMY-nominated Little Richard documentarian and VJ’s friend @misscortes and slow-sipping our (outstanding) cocktails before retreating to our respective beds.

Besides, between client presentations and @theamericanblackstory, I had work to do.

Luckily for me, NYC is full of dreams and mine with Valerie June wasn’t done quite yet…

[Ed. Note: This post is part of a one-time February 2024 mini-series that took me to NYC where I was treated to an abundance of Blackstories first-hand. In place of my usual February content, I chose to share my own real-time (-ish) lived experience to honor the vibrant people New York put in my path.]