I debated on whether I should post about this experience because it is neither relatable nor approachable. However, I opted to write about it because it was such of cool, whirlwind experience that I felt it needed to be documented in some capacity. You may or may not have already read my post about my visit to the New York Stock Exchange. If not, feel free to take a gander here. In a nutshell, my best friend helped take her employer public granting her (and by default, me) the opportunity to partake in a series of festivities that included, but extended past, the New York Stock Exchange. To celebrate such a milestone she wanted to purchase herself something nice. A fair desire as one often chooses to make a celebratory purchase after such an endeavor is achieved. Her purchase of choice was a timepiece from Tiffany & Co. I should back up a bit to say that the day after the company went public, we paid a visit to the 5th Avenue location of this prestigious jewelry house. We exchanged friendly banter and claptrap with our newfound friends, Sir George and Ginny, where she viewed and compared several timepieces. Her name was put on a waitlist for the specific one that she wanted to purchase and we took a flight home. Estimate time of arrival of said timepiece: unknown.

Five days after arriving home from New York City, I get a text from Crystal. She asks, “What are you doing this weekend?” (Mind you, it was already Thursday afternoon). I responded, “No plans, really.” She says, “Okay. I am booking you a flight to NYC. We need to go pick up my timepiece!” Excuse me, what? We had just arrived from New York City, not 4 days prior, but who am I to say no? Two days later, we were on a flight to spend 5 hours in NYC!

We arrived at La Guardia (exhausted from the early morning flight) and got picked up by a car service that took us directly to Tiffany & Co. We met Sir George on the 6th floor where we were promptly escorted into a private room. Listen, talk about imposter syndrome. I was just a guest at this table, but I truly enjoyed my time here, albeit short-lived. A bunch of tomfoolery ensued in that room when she and I were left alone. They offered us champagne, wine, water and/or coffee and brought out a plate with two macarons each. I mean for spending that kind of money, I would have appreciated a club sandwich with a side of honey mustard, at the very minimum, but I digress. An exchange of currency and goods occurred behind that closed door. The details shall not be mentioned. We were then offered a private tour of an exclusive timepiece and jewel exhibition that was occurring on the 10th floor. At this point, I am fully out of my comfort zone, but taking in every detail of this experience. Turns out, they treat you a tad bit better when you spend a beaucoup money.

We left the confined walls of the private elevator and entered into a pristine floor adorned with the iconic Tiffany blue, crisp ivory rugs and a cornucopia of jewels and gems. We were escorted throughout the floor by a corporate employee explaining to us each and every piece, its origin and sometimes dropping a price or two just for the shock and awe. We went from reveling in the displays of timepieces and diamonds, into the seating area, then a corner office, past a library and we ended up at the bar. With time not on side, we quickly rushed to lower floors to grab a few, less pricey, essentials and then headed downstairs to be picked up by our car.

Five hours after we landed in New York City, we were back at La Guardia to catch our flight home… timepiece in tow. A 17-hour day that yielded a 5-hour visit truly felt like a New York minute.