Categories: uncategorized
Date: 29 July 2007 17:00:49
ok, so my brother and i began our 3 hour journey late one evening... was only going to take 3 hours, mind you. the highway leads straight from point A to destination B.
i printed directions from the computer... and he told me they were wrong. (he doesn't drive, by the way). so we're going like gangbusters towards NY city.
it's taking much too long - we get lost in Philadelphia, PA. why? because he said my directions were wrong, and i was driving blind (i'm one of those people who sets the mileage counter on her car so she'll know when to look for the next exit)
so the 3 hours is stretching...
then we pay lots of $ for tolls as we finally near our destination. and as we enter NY City proper, there's a bit of construction. there are lots of trucks nearby, so I wish to pass them. at the exact same moment i choose to pass a big truck, HE chooses to pass someone on his other side... therefore, we were almost squoosed between big truck and pretty concrete wall. needless to say, my reaction time was impeccable...otherwise, i wouldn't be writing to you here.
that woke me up.
so, hours after we began, we near his apartment. being this is new york city, one cannot leave anything "of interest" in the car - so as not to attract any unwanted interest (especially with out of state license plates). so we unload 1/2 of his belongings into his apartment... then head to the art studio (which is 5 minutes away by car, 20 by subway).
i miss a turn, we end up in a very shady part of town. *click* i make sure the doors are locked... i've never driven here... he realizes we can't get my car into the lot unless we have a key. who has a key? where does he get one? i'm driving in places unknown, he's on the phone & occasionally gestures re: which direction to head. meanwhile, i notice that NY city cabs and cars and pedestrians are rather irritated with out of town cars - as i wasn't driving 20 miles over the speed limit.
finally we find the studio, he gets us inside the tall fenced parking area, and we enter. now, i must tell you that i have terrible stomach cramps at this time. instead of helping him unload the car, i request to use the washroom.
as we walk up the stairs to the studio space, it's dark, dreary... i can hear water dripping somewhere. it's so very dark. no lights. i try to stay near, as horrible bad-horror-tv-movie-images flash in my head.
he opens a great door... enter the studio space. it sounds and smells like new york. the bathroom has no light. it's more of a washroom for artists, with two stalls. very unclean, especially in the dark. he finds a flashlight, leaves me alone in this large empty building while he empties the car. the light goes out after 3 minutes, of course. i anticipate a rat will come nibble at my toes any moment. i'm sill very sick & cramp-y... and i keep thinking "welcome to new york"
so eventually i find soap in the dark, dry my hands on my shirt, and find my brother... it's so empty and dark and dreary in the middle of the night. he takes me on a "tour" in the darkness, lit by a small fading light. i liked the little i saw, but the Survival Of The Fittest part of me wanted to get out of there as fast as humanly possible. i had images of my car being stripped and stolen while we were looking at art in the darkness.
we leave, get lost finding his apartment, and we're both bleary-eyed and exhausted. eventually we get to his place, park the car as close as possible, and trudge to his domicile.
we enter, and i realize i've just entered the *guy zone*. i realize my brother is a young man with roommates, living in a flat in ny city... but it just dawned on me that i'm a girl, and our standards of living and cleanliness are very different.
there is stuff everywhere... i'm sure it's an organized chaos, but there is grit and grime all over the floor, on nearly every surface. piles of stuff everywhere. (i'm all for a creative mind friendly clutter, but this was waaaaaay beyond that)
i had asked before we left mom's if i needed to bring sheets or a towel? he said he couldn't guarantee a clean towel, but he had sheets. great - i brought a towel. no problem.
he unfolds the couch bed (it's a futon, i think) and starts rummaging through some of the gross piles on the floor ... i wonder why? he tells me he's not sure where the couch came from - they found it on the street. (oh. hmmm.)
then he picks up a rumpled sheet, sniffs it, and starts to lay it on the couch-bed. i'm wondering what he's doing... it takes a minute for my brain to catch up with my eyes...
i'm silent as he picks up some curtains, sniffs them as well, and says 'only one person has slept in these - they'll be ok, right?' and then the meaning of everything comes together. i don't respond right away (remember, i'm tired and exhausted, it's very late, and i still feel stomach cramps - very unwell, especially at that time of night)
i'm on the verge of tears.
i muster all of the possible grace i can find, and say "...can i please have clean sheets?"
it takes him a moment - he's processing the request (the need for it, i think - as he already has sheets in his hand) then mumbles something and comes back with two clean sheets (wrong size, much smaller than mattress, but i didn't care)
sigh.
six hours after we began, it was time to rest.
~~~~~~~~
the next morning we went out early for breakfast, as i had to move my car for street cleaning - there was no parking spot to be found, so we went to a nearby diner. by the time we got back, we had excellent parking just outside his apartment.
later in the visit we used my car to get a few supplies from the hardware store, adn of course i lost my nice parking spot. i had to park a block away. guess what? someone keyed my car. they wrote a little, friendly message on the side of my car, which i will now share with you. i hope it warms your heart as much as it did mine: DK WAS HERE in big, capital letters.
thank you, thank you -
welcome to new york :)