I Don’t Care What the T-shirts Say, I Hate New York.

Ok so I don’t hate New York, but after this weekend, I have a slightly bitter taste in my mouth. And that’s only because anything that could possibly go wrong, did.

Because my roommates and I are moving out of our lovely fourth floor Bronx walk up this month, I really needed to head down there to clear out some items. I promised Erin adn Caroline I would and, since I have off Fridays and don’t work until 5 on Saturdays, I decided to head out Thursday after work to get some stuff done there.

From that point on everything goes down hill. I really should have realized things weren’t going to go well from the start. Thursday afternoon, as Hurricane Beryl grew closer and closer, I was forced to leave work a little early out of fear that the ferries would stop running due to rough seas. Luckily they weren’t, but as I began to move my car to the ferry parking lot I realized I had forgotten my apartment keys. With only 30 minutes to spare, I hurried back to the house, found my keys, and made it back to the docks with 10 minutes to spare. Sitting in my ferry seat, I exhaled a deep sigh of relief knowing I had made it.

So, finally relaxed, I reached into my bag to call my friend Chris, who I had PROMISED to call when I got on the ferry. I dug around through my big black bag, but the cell phone was no where to be found. Thinking back, I realized that, in the midst of my hurry to catch my boat, I had left my cell phone on the front seat of my car. I, the girl who SLEEPS with her cell phone next to her in bed, had forgotten to bring her the same device on a multi-state trip all alone. NIIIICE.

With nothing else I could do, I brushed the loss aside and decided I would get by without it. I mean, just ten years ago I would have been able to function just fine without one. Then again I would also be eleven years old and probably be watching Saved by the Bell while dreaming of my future as a famous Fashion Designer. Things sure have turned out as I planned.

Anyways, after getting over the situation, I took a little nap on the ferry, had some candy, and made it to Penn Station unharmed and a little more rested. But then, on the 2 subway, I got so immersed in my freshly bought copy of Cosmo, that I forgot to transfer over to the local and found my self smack dab in the middle of Harlem. So I, the only white girl in a ten mile radius, wearing my gauchos and a head scarf mind you, was forced to get off the train, turn around, and head back to Caucasia. The woman next to me had curly gold hair and was wearing stilettos. Needless to say, for numerous reasons, I think I stood out a little

Despite the hassle, I made it back to the Bronx but, keeping in theme, I was hit with yet another surprise as I opened my apartment door. Though I knew my roommate’s sister, Dianna, was staying at the apartment with her roommate while they looked for a new place, I had no idea they were still there. Upon opening the door, however, and seeing loads of new and rearranged furniture I quickly pieced out the situation. Dianna wasn’t there at the time, but when she returned later that night to find some girl sleeping on the couch it was sufficiently awkward. Luckily, I know Dianna and she’s extremely nice, so when she figured out who, it was slightly more normal, but regardless it was weird all around.

In the morning I quickly headed out, went down to Manhattan, taken care of some chores, buying some things for my coworkers in Block Island, and eventually getting a hotel room for the night since I felt strange about bringing back my brother and his friend Pat to the apartment that Dianna and her roommate were now occupying. I watched some tv, got a few minutes sleep, took a shower, and met up with Freddie back in the Bronx to remove my crap from the apartment.

However, because I had no cell phone, I couldnt call Caroline to ask what needed to be done. In addition, Dianna wasnt there for me to ask her what she wanted and/or needed. With no one to turn to, I decided to take only what was definitely mine. It wasn’t until later today, when I was finally reunited with my phone, that I got the message from Caroline asking me to clear out the kitchen. Instead, I traveled numerous hours and spent loads of dollars to remove a pillow, a clock radio, and a two mirrors. And now I need to try and bribe my brother to return to the Bronx to take care of the remaining stuff. And, I have to hope my roommates aren’t too pissed that the things they had wanted done weren’t taken care of.

But luckily, after that, I was able to relax for a little and even had a fun time out that night with Freddie and Pat. We “did” beers, hit a few bars downtown, and destroyed an entire pizza. The next day I even woke up fairly on time and, though slightly groggy, feeling not so bad. I gathered up my stuff, laughed at Freddie and Pat sleeping in the same bed (no homo), and headed to Penn Station.

Well, I don’t know what schedule I was looking at, but when I arrived to catch my train, the departure I was looking for was completely unheard of. The next possible train wasn’t until one, meaning I would get to work at least 15 minutes late. After reacquainting myself with the pay phone and visiting every store in Penn Station to get change for a dollar, I finally got a hold of a coworker who, after laughing at me profusely, informed my boss of the situation. Everything, though a little tense, was taken care of.

I think we all know my bad luck doesn’t end here. After thinking I was in the clear, my train, of course, ends up arriving late. Not 5 minutes late. Not even 15. It was an hour late. Meaning I missed my intended ferry and was forced to take the 6 oclock. Again, I went through the 411/ pay phone drama and let the grill know the deal. Sitting in the cold, foggy wind, I was convinced I would soon be fired and maybe even be spit on by my boss.

When my ferry finally pulled op to Old Harbor, I dragged myself off exhausted, disheveled, and, admittedly, a little smelly. I hurried over to the grill and fell into my boss’s arms, apologizing profusely for everything. Well, what did she do? She give me a raise.

Seriously, she gave me a raise.

It turns out that Friday, while I was away, we were totally slammed and the crazy Ukrainian hostesses working that day couldnt control the crowds. So my boss, Erin, after talking to the owner, got me a little bump up on my salary. I wont be able to take the two week vacation I had intended in August, but Its nice knowing that my work is appreciated.

So, although my weekend was chaotic, I have at least returned with some piece of mind. Its gonna be a little nutso trying to convince my brother to go back to the Bronx to unload my stuff, but once this apartment stuff is taken care of Ill be golden. Things are good here on Block Island, and I am happy. I have great friends: my new friend Natalie is one of the best I’ve made since collage. My job is going great. And I have a boss who, when things are shitty, I can fall into her arms and cry to like she’s my mom.

Things could be worse: I could still be in Harlem, the weird white girl in the hippy head scarf, trying to get to her apartment without a cell phone.