Just once, when I go and visit New York City, I'd like to be in the same place as Brandon Stanton, the genius photographer behind the massively successful blog "Humans of New York," at the same time. Is that really too much to ask? Even though I live upstate, I like to think of myself as a Human of New York, having been a frequent tourist in the past five years, and just returning from my first overnight stay in the city. Although I may not be a certified HONY yet, I like to look at my visits as potential job training.

And what training it has been! The trip I have only just returned from has been full of vital experiences for this job, more than what I've previously encountered in this urban playground. Overall, the past 24 hours have been incredibly instrumental in preparing for my (hopefully) inevitable role as a city dweller in the Big Apple.

The first part of the trip consisted of driving from my hometown of Laurens, New York (about four hours away in good traffic), and navigating city traffic for the first time. Thankfully, it being a Wednesday afternoon, and my boss' apartment being merely four blocks off the highway, it wasn't nearly as strenuous as I had feared.

We made our way to the apartment, conveniently located in Hell's Kitchen, up to the eighth floor in what I suspect was a debilitated elevator, and unpacked. The apartment itself was rather small, possibly no bigger than three of my bedrooms put together (with a bathroom tucked in there somewhere), but it had a warm and roomy quality to it. Of course, I had never imagined that I would ever step foot in a New York City apartment, let alone be staying in one; we all know how monstrous rent is, especially around Times Square. So, that was my second great accomplishment.

My boss and current traveling companion, Karen, gave me free roam of the city until 7 p.m., which I took advantage of right away. Ever since my first time in Manhattan, I had always wanted to have the opportunity to wander around by myself, on my own time, and now that I had, I couldn't decide where to go first. My instincts took over, and I found myself in Times Square, watching the many tourists, Hello Kitties, and Lady Liberties mingle. None of them looked particularly thrilled to be there.

I watched for a little while more, then made my way towards Broadway. The theaters lined up and down the street shined their lights, beckoning anyone walking down the avenue to come and see something wonderful. I walked past the Barrymore Theater, where "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" was playing, and noticed a crowd of people bunched together along the side of the building. It just so happened that Alex Sharp, who played the main character and won a Tony for it, was signing autographs and taking pictures. I got my picture taken with him, said congratulations, and went on my way, my heart beating a little faster than it had been before.

After more wandering, around 30 Rock (now grossly called the Comcast Building) and the Avenue of the Americas, I returned to the apartment around quarter to seven to collect Karen and head to the Lyric Theater, where "On The Town!"was being performed. This was my first Broadway play, and the fact that we somehow managed to get seats two rows away from the orchestra still astounds me. The play itself was incredibly performed, choreographed, and sung, and I could tell that a lot of heart and hard work went into making this show the best it could be. The story of a guy on the town for just one day, looking for excitement, also was a good fit for my situation.

After waiting outside for 30 minutes to get autographs from the cast, I wandered some more, hoping to find my way back to the apartment, but ended up getting lost, instead. Luck (or some deeper omen) led me to the Shake Shack, where I had what I believe is the best burger I've ever had the pleasure of eating, and I regained my sense of navigation and made my way back to the apartment. This is a stretch, but I think Daredevil was around, making sure I made it back safely.

The wandering continued the next day, when I walked back to 30 Rock, this time going inside to look around. I learned the Lester Holt is actually taller in person, and I learned that by walking up the same staircase as him. I nearly had a heart attack. After that near run-in, I made my way down Fifth Avenue and, eventually, Columbus Circle, and I started to notice the people in the city around me: the woman walking her dog, the construction workers taking a break, and the young parents, holding their daughter's hand while pushing their newborn in a stroller. All these people are Humans; they have their own stories, their own lives, and their own experiences. Some want to be discovered, others want you to mind your own business, but they all have one thing in common—they come together and make the city of New York the interesting and inspiring metropolis that it is, the city that I am proud and ready to be a part of. For now, I'm just a Human in New York, but when the day comes that Brandon Stanton finds me on the street and asks for my picture, I'll have my own story to tell.