Friday, July 16, 2010

The Step with the Bed

Today I did something I thought I never, ever, was going to do in New York.

I drove a car.

More so, a uhaul. Not a big one; a car wagon. But I drove it, nonetheless. Through Midtown, even.

I have been sleeping on our couch for almost a month now (has it almost been a month?). I was going to get a bed eventually, but every time I got a day off I didn't want to waste it doing something benign and dull as looking for something to sleep in; I wanted to live! And since one of my roommates didn't have a bed either, it seemed okay.

That is, until she got one.

Since that slumber party was over, I decided to grab a bed myself. Went online to IKEA, Sears, even discount mattresses. All were too confusing or expensive or confusing and expensive. I just couldn't get a decent mattress for a relatively low price.

So I went to the next best thing: Craigslist. And within a matter of minutes I found two great deals. The one I pounced on was a full size Sealy Posturepedic mattress and boxspring in great condition for only $200. Perfect! Emailed him, told him I was coming for it on Friday, and what was done was done.

Well... not quite.

See, my roommates may have had to pay more for a bed, but theirs were delivered. Mine: not so much. I realized after that I still needed to get the mattress from there to here, and apparently Craigslist frowns on shipping. So... nothing to do but rent a uhaul and go for it!

If my blood boils and all my joints tense up whenever I drive through San Francisco in a small car, how was I going to drive through New York City in a uhaul?

My roommate Emily offered to help me move the mattress and boxspring. We were at different places in the morning, so when I went to pick up the uhaul she was already there waiting for me.

I went into the tiny uhaul to find the tiny uhaul office and an even tinier uhaul man. He wasn't small in size, mind you, just in mind. I reserved the cargo van at 2pm for 4 hours. When I met the man, the first thing out of his mouth was, "I close at six."

Great, good to meet you, too.

That's all he cared to inform me of. He closed at six, and if I don't bring it in by then I have to bring it in tomorrow. Yes, sir, I understand the concept that one day precedes the next. Perhaps you don't realize that 2 + 4 = 6, as in 6 pm. I rented the van for four hours, all the while preparing to return in back at six. And, honestly, how long was it going to take to get a mattress?

Long, apparently.

I got in, took perhaps too long to adjust ALL the mirrors, and started the van. And waited to go. And waited so more. And perhaps there was more waiting.

But after, I finally went. I was feeling confident, brave, in control of my own destiny. I was driving through New York City!

Correction: I was sitting in traffic through New York City.

All I had to do was go to 2nd Ave. and 47th. Problem was, I was on 36th and 10th Ave. Tenth. I chose to fire down one street, pass through each avenue, then come up to 47th. Yet, apparently the street I chose to "fire down" was more of a "simmer where you are" sort of street. Sad to say, but it took awhile.

Tight streets, stupid pedestrians (always walking! ALWAYS with the walking!), and several car honks later, we got there. We arrived! And with a lovely parking space right outside. But where was outside? I knew the cross streets, but he never did give me his actual address. He didn't even give me his number! All I had to go by was the cross streets, his name, and that he called it the elevator building (I'm sorry, what do you mean? Is there an elevator on the outside? Is it just one big elevator? Or do you not know that other buildings in New York have elevators. Hell, MY building has an elevator!). I did know this in advance, but he confirmed through email that I could pick it up on Friday. And it was Friday, and I wanted a bed.

So, my plan was to go to the buildings on the cross streets and see if the guy lived there. Problem was, it could be ANY of those buildings, either way. There were a lot of "elevator buildings". Unwary of the task but knew it had to be completed, I picked the closest building to us and went in.

AND IT WAS IT! BOOM!

Seriously. The first building I went into was this famed elevator building I heard so much about. I talked to the lobby attendant, told him I was here to pick up a bed, and he called up. Just like that. Just as if he was expecting me. Just as if I was expecting him.

I've made it. I drove through town, found the right building, and now am going to finally have a bed to sleep on! So...where's the bed? Hell, where's the guy I'm supposed to pick it up from?

Wasn't there. Attendant called twice and no answer. He even let us up to the floor to knock on his apartment. No luck. Had we really been all this way, taking such a great journey, to only be denied our sweet treasure in the end?

Apparently so.

I left him a note at the desk, and I offered to buy my roommate lunch for helping me with my phantom bed. We went to this little place called the Manchester Pub. It was small and a little smelly; just like a English pub ought to be. And the peppered-burger was simply divine. Divine? Seriously, Jimmy-typing-this? Seriously, Jimmy-reading-this.

As we went back to the van, we checked in one last time to see if maybe, by some stroke of luck, he had come back! But, no stroke of luck. Not even a faint wave. He wasn't there.

I drove the van through 5th Ave., right next to Macy's, and back to the garage. We hoofed it to the subway, thankful that we didn't have drive through that some more.


Do I despair that I didn't get my mattress? Somewhat. But what I'm more excited and proud for is the notion that I did the impossible today: I drove through New York! I tamed the beast and lived to tell the tale. What did it costs me? $40 dollars and lunch with a friend? Small price for a big victory.


P.S. After some more detailed conversations with this bed guy, I think I'm going to try this all again on Sunday. But this time, I'll be ready.



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