The story begins like this... It was a Thursday, I was sitting at my desk working and my cousin convinces me to reschedule my entire next ten days to go to Portugal with her.
Luckily (Shout out to JBJ & MBM) I have a pair of bosses who support spontaneity, family, and klacole.com. So I was off to the packing races: passport, a few items I knew would be necessary for a european beach getaway, and my outlook away message set... I was ready to go.
I walked into CLT and notice right away a line of maybe 50 of my closest pals at the JetBlue counter (I do not recommend JetBlue, but hey... it was last minute and I have learned my lesson). All planes were 4 hours behind. This normally would have been fine, however, I was going to miss JetBlue's only connecting flight to Portugal that day. Long story short and because I do not prefer negativity on Klacole.com.... CLT took me to JFK and I never made it to Europe. (No thanks whatsoever to JetBlue who's customer service didn't even answer past midnight... cool)
Here I am. Midnight on a random Tuesday in NYC. Luckily, I have a gal pal who is like a sister who lives in the cutest little flat and was willing to having a last minute visitor. (Becca- You still rock and I still owe you).
The next opportunity to get back to my car at CLT was Thursday late afternoon. So I did what any girl would do in NYC... I had a blast.
First (after late night pizza, girl talk, and some zzz's) I grabbed coffee on the go and made my way to the September 11th Museum. I made my reservations in advance that morning online (you can too, here). The place was packed, and made an even emotional experience more real as fellow tourist saw the devastation of that dark day many years ago. Walking through the museum alone was a surprisingly appropriate thing to do- I was able to take my time, pray over the families who's loved ones were pictured, and find the perspective I needed for my current circumstances. I HIGHLY recommend this museum to those of you who feel called to experience it. Fair Warning- bring your own tissues, the museum does not offer them on hand.
Next, I decided to walk to Wall Street (you know, where the big bucks are traded like candy) and take my time watching the business men and women rush around on their cell phones. The unique thing about Wall Street is my dad lived there for a number of years... 45 Wall to be exact. I stopped by to tell his doorman hello and snap a quick photo. It was another emotional stop on my journey, but was worth every second.
After the September 11th Museum and my dad's old stomping grounds, it was time for a drink. I began walking in the general direction I needed to go and stumbled upon a tequila and taco bar: Anejo Tibeca. (If you know me, or follow me on insta, you know I can't turn down Mexican food...) I pulled myself a seat at the bar and ordered the bartenders favorite margarita.
ProTip: If you always ask the bartender for their favorite,
you won't get a bad drink...
Surprisingly, she made me a drink that happen to be in a contest for Fall Specials. I thoroughly enjoyed being a judge in the competition and spend my afternoon with the ladies of Anejo.
As I wrapped up my day and returned to my sweet hostess for a night of catching up and wine, I could not believe how peaceful my travel woes turned out. The lesson learned was bigger than the missed vacation: travel is always an adventure.