My Worst Day (so far)
It was my first week here. The weather was still 90 – 90% humidity and 90F. Ugh. The streets reeked, even to my insensitive olfaction. The sidewalks were spilling with garbage and dog poop. And I was about to embark on my first solo subway adventure.
This involved a transfer, as I needed to get downtown, near NYU, and back to Kmart to exchange lightbulbs we’d purchased the night before. Who knew that “type B” bulbs had two different fitting sizes? Not me, apparently! The subway was crowded, and I feared I’d end up somewhere unfamiliar and unsafe. But I managed to get off at the correct station, and found the Kmart again. The salesperson at the Customer unService Desk reluctantly took my receipt and lightbulbs, and told me to find the replacements. She also informed me that there were no washrooms on the premises. I guess a 3-floor department store housing over 100 staff at any given time wouldn’t have bathrooms. Isn’t that what sidewalks were for?
Anyway, off I went, looking for replacement bulbs. It was difficult to tell which of the “type B”’s had the correct fitting. What to do? I certainly didn’t want to have to trek down for a second lightbulb-exchange trip! Then I realized I would do what any New Yorker would do: I took several packages of bulb contenders, went up to the second floor where the lamp we’d previously purchased was on display, and tried out each bulb until I found the right ones. Then I left everything next to the lamp, got an unopened package of the correct bulbs, and exchanged them at the unService Desk.
Never have I been so happy to see a Starbuck’s as that afternoon. That instantly recognizable chain has public toilets! Hurray! I rushed into the dank and smelly room, but alas there was no toilet paper!
After that ordeal, I took the subway to one of the two Home Depots on Manhattan. The address I had for it was incorrect, and was brusquely informed by the staffmember of the building I did enter. When asked if he knew where the Home Depot was, he was able to tell me it was on the other side of the building. Did that mean I had to go through the building to find the Home Depot? Apparently not. Instead, I had to go around the block.
One think I’m learning about NY is that you have to ask the right person the right question to get the answer you’re looking for. Just because someone might know the answer, they won’t tell you if you don’t ask and if it isn’t their job.
Something good happened – Home Depot delivers for the low cost of $21 anywhere on the island! Yay! I bought a cartload of stuff and had it all delivered that night.
Another thing I’m learning about NY – everything gets delivered! Half the people in our apartment building even gets groceries delivered.
Home Depot on Manhattan doesn’t have lumber, the salesperson told me. They also don’t cut wood. But they would kindly sell me a saw. Thanks, but not in this small apartment. They do have services for putting furniture together, however. It’s very much a ‘do-it-for-me’ rather than a ‘do-it-yourself’ place, and very polished compared to the Home Depots I’m used to!
After all these salespeople, I really wanted something familiar and comforting, so off I went to the Mid-Manhattan Library. Rows and rows of books always soothes me. And it was close by, so I could even walk, thus avoiding the subway! Little did I know that the ‘few’ blocks turned out to be very many. Ugh. I finally arrived at the library, exhausted and too annoyed to even enjoy the architecture of the building. Once inside, I had to line up to have my bags inspected (good thing I had the drill and shelves and other hardware delivered!), and then line up again at the information booth staffed by dottering NY old ladies. They said that the architecture books were up on the 3rd floor, so I headed up to finally relax in the midst of books. But life doesn’t happen like that. There were no books. Not accessible by the public, at least. There were, however, lots of people sitting at lots of wooden tables, looking at books. Where did they get these books? Well, it turns out that this was a special collections (part of the?) library. You had to request a specific book, wait in line until your number was called, and retrieve your book from a staffmember. No browsing amongst books for me, and no solace for my soul.
I caught the subway during rush hour back north, and arrived home with a better understanding of how things in this city works, but without respite.
This involved a transfer, as I needed to get downtown, near NYU, and back to Kmart to exchange lightbulbs we’d purchased the night before. Who knew that “type B” bulbs had two different fitting sizes? Not me, apparently! The subway was crowded, and I feared I’d end up somewhere unfamiliar and unsafe. But I managed to get off at the correct station, and found the Kmart again. The salesperson at the Customer unService Desk reluctantly took my receipt and lightbulbs, and told me to find the replacements. She also informed me that there were no washrooms on the premises. I guess a 3-floor department store housing over 100 staff at any given time wouldn’t have bathrooms. Isn’t that what sidewalks were for?
Anyway, off I went, looking for replacement bulbs. It was difficult to tell which of the “type B”’s had the correct fitting. What to do? I certainly didn’t want to have to trek down for a second lightbulb-exchange trip! Then I realized I would do what any New Yorker would do: I took several packages of bulb contenders, went up to the second floor where the lamp we’d previously purchased was on display, and tried out each bulb until I found the right ones. Then I left everything next to the lamp, got an unopened package of the correct bulbs, and exchanged them at the unService Desk.
Never have I been so happy to see a Starbuck’s as that afternoon. That instantly recognizable chain has public toilets! Hurray! I rushed into the dank and smelly room, but alas there was no toilet paper!
After that ordeal, I took the subway to one of the two Home Depots on Manhattan. The address I had for it was incorrect, and was brusquely informed by the staffmember of the building I did enter. When asked if he knew where the Home Depot was, he was able to tell me it was on the other side of the building. Did that mean I had to go through the building to find the Home Depot? Apparently not. Instead, I had to go around the block.
One think I’m learning about NY is that you have to ask the right person the right question to get the answer you’re looking for. Just because someone might know the answer, they won’t tell you if you don’t ask and if it isn’t their job.
Something good happened – Home Depot delivers for the low cost of $21 anywhere on the island! Yay! I bought a cartload of stuff and had it all delivered that night.
Another thing I’m learning about NY – everything gets delivered! Half the people in our apartment building even gets groceries delivered.
Home Depot on Manhattan doesn’t have lumber, the salesperson told me. They also don’t cut wood. But they would kindly sell me a saw. Thanks, but not in this small apartment. They do have services for putting furniture together, however. It’s very much a ‘do-it-for-me’ rather than a ‘do-it-yourself’ place, and very polished compared to the Home Depots I’m used to!
After all these salespeople, I really wanted something familiar and comforting, so off I went to the Mid-Manhattan Library. Rows and rows of books always soothes me. And it was close by, so I could even walk, thus avoiding the subway! Little did I know that the ‘few’ blocks turned out to be very many. Ugh. I finally arrived at the library, exhausted and too annoyed to even enjoy the architecture of the building. Once inside, I had to line up to have my bags inspected (good thing I had the drill and shelves and other hardware delivered!), and then line up again at the information booth staffed by dottering NY old ladies. They said that the architecture books were up on the 3rd floor, so I headed up to finally relax in the midst of books. But life doesn’t happen like that. There were no books. Not accessible by the public, at least. There were, however, lots of people sitting at lots of wooden tables, looking at books. Where did they get these books? Well, it turns out that this was a special collections (part of the?) library. You had to request a specific book, wait in line until your number was called, and retrieve your book from a staffmember. No browsing amongst books for me, and no solace for my soul.
I caught the subway during rush hour back north, and arrived home with a better understanding of how things in this city works, but without respite.
posted by blumaroo at
12:53 PM
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