I got a direct message from the Met Museum today on Twitter. With my name in it, so I choose to believe it wasn't a canned generic response.
One of the best. moments. of. my. life.
When my parents took me to NYC for my college graduation (because there are art museums there and I was an art history major) the Met was like heaven for me. Blissful. It didn't even matter that my feet were killing me. I was going to see that entire museum no matter how long it took.
Later that night, around 7:30 p.m., my mother asks me how I liked the pop art exhibit with all the Andy Warhol's because she knows I am an Andy Warhol lover. "What?" I ask. I'd MISSED IT! So I look at my husband all distraught and despite how badly our feet were hurting at that point he said, "Do you want to go back while we still have our passes (note: still have them to this day!)?" Me, sheepishly: "Yes."
So we go and hop on the Subway, but because we're stupid tourists we hop on the wrong one! We get off on the right street, but on the OTHER SIDE of Central Park. I asked a cop where we were and how to get to the Met. He couldn't help me. (Seriously?! You're a cop! You should know the city!) So we ask another passerby and she told us that it was on the other side of the park (and she looked genuinely sad for us). It's 8:15 p.m. now. We're at least 5 blocks from Central Park and the museum is on the other side. So we start running and speed walking thinking, "It's just a park, no big deal."
We ran into a lake.
So we run around the lake and finally reach the museum at 8:35 p.m., dash in with our cool little Met button passes and get directions to Andy Warhol. I saw the Andy Warhols that I had missed (now, I had seen others earlier in the day, but I missed this one very important room).
Had to stop at a drug store on the way back to the subway for band-aids because I was in flip flops and now had massive blisters.
Completely worth it.
I would give anything to live in New York City.
UPDATE: Then the Met twittered this post to their followers! OH MY GOSH!!