Today is actually the 28th of August, but I am just stating this blog now, so the first several entries shall be in retrospect. After the first couple of days, it is all kind of a blur. I don’t know which day was which, only the general chronological order.
This morning, we still had to pack some supplies from the apartment, and we had to shove the rest of everything in the car. We accomplished that. Much like the rest of the packing process, we found, in doing so, how easy it can be to throw out possessions that we had preferred to keep just a few weeks earlier. To those I know who are parents and/or teachers: puzzle-solving skills are not to be underestimated or undervalued. That is all.
Placing the cats in their carrier proved simple purely by luck. A.D. was already laying in hers, so I merely had to close the front door. If you do not believe that cats can have human-like expressions on their faces, this day might have changed your mind. The rising sense of terror became evident as she realized that she might be trapped. I felt like I had betrayed one of my best friends (because I sort of did, you see).
We placed her and Pickles in the back seat, facing each other, piled under the last of our clothes and bedding. I felt bad about it for the entire drive to New York. I wasn’t sure how they would handle it, but they were quiet most of the way, and they did not make one unsavory mess to deal with.
We arrived at our new address a lot later than we wanted. I think it was almost five. We called the superintendent to tell him we were there and we needed to unpack. Being almost five, the time when he was supposed to be off work, he was pretty irritated and definitely abrasive. He rambled on in his think Colombian accent:
“You have to learn! Thee sees America! I have a schedule! You have to learn da schedule! Ees after five! I no can help help you, you know?! I get off at five. Ees after five, I can no help you, you know?! Now I have to stay overtime!”
As a heads up, things turned out quite well, but, at that moment, things were not fine. Inside my head, the conversation went something like this:
“What? What!? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I f***ing worked for you, you little sh**. I just f***ing live here, and I just happen to pay the God-d**ned exorbitant rent so that I can. You don’t want to help us? Fine! Shut up and leave us alone before I punch you in your Spanish, midget head (engage stare of death).”
Again, let me emphasize that I spoke zero of those words. This was my initial, emotional reaction to be treated so poorly after getting here; we had just driven a six-hour route in order to move our residence from a place that we did not really want to leave. Bad moods bubbled down deep.
Continuing on with reality: he (the super) calmed down a lot after he understood that the truck with nearly everything would arrive tomorrow. His attitude flipped completely, though he was still a bit overbearing about how we needed to make sure that the movers got here earlier than we did. He even helped make some space for us to park while we unloaded the car.
Unfortunately, the next day, the movers also arrived near five, despite their best efforts to be early. The Super wasn’t happy about that either, but he helped them park the truck and supervised the unloading, all the same. My favorite line of his from that day was, “You are moving the Virginia way! You need to move the New York way!” We gave him some nice German chocolate as a gift after the movers had finished. He’s been pretty nice since. I have never had a building superintendent before, so I don’t know how typical this is, but I felt that my social introduction to New York City would vindicate a few Hollywood movies.
Little Robot in a Giant City 