Losing My Shit: Figuratively and (Almost) Literally

New York - Day 1

We got to baggage claim in Newark airport and sure enough, my suitcase wasn't there. I talked to the baggage claim lady (I don't know what their official titles are supposed to be and feel bad that they must work in tiny, depressing, holes for offices) and she was nice - like a mom who won't sugarcoat things for you but definitely looks out for your best interests.

The earliest my suitcase could make it into Newark was 2pm (it was 11am then), but they could deliver it to me. I didn't have our apartment address written down. I am never this disorganized, but I was this trip. Shame!

I did have the apartment rental service's address and number though. The girl I talked to was not very helpful. What should have taken maybe 5 minutes to sort out took closer to 10. (Why would you hire anyone so incapable to handle anything administration-related?!)

I thought it best to send my luggage to the apartment rental services office, but they wanted to charge me $50. The baggage lady was completely disgusted and handled the rest of the call for me. No, you're not paying them an extra $50. That's ridiculous! We'll get your number and give you a call before we deliver your luggage so you don't have to wait around in the apartment all day. See what I said about her being a total mom?

With that sorted out, we hopped in a cab to Brooklyn to get our apartment keys. Our cabby was Haitian, which I found out because his GPS was set to French and I asked where he was from. We drove through the claustrophobic-ly long Holland Tunnel and the congested streets of Chinatown to Brooklyn.

The cab ride was $90. Ugh.

At the rental services office, I met the ditzy girl I talked to on the phone. I think she was an intern.

Apartment keys secured and back into Manhattan! It was a really nice day out and not at all as cold as I was expecting, which was good for me as I was still dressed for west coast weather (my giant down jacket was in my suitcase).

We marvelled at shady-looking nail and hair salons along the way, lamented Jenny's absence, and laughed over how I misunderstood Ricky Martin for Obama. (Sue said "Whitney and I were wondering if he's in Vancouver right now [for the Olympics]" and Ricky Martin was on the radio, so I'd said, "Who? Ricky Martin?" when we'd been talking about Obama just a minute ago.)

Lexington between 63rd and 64th. Finally here!

We knew the apartment building had no lift when we'd booked, but I was too optimistic to realize the building would have narrow staircases. We are on the top (fourth) floor.

When we got to our suite, I knew we'd made the right choice for our apartment. The windows are massive with draping curtains. One living room wall is painted in gold and maroon damask patterns while the opposite brick wall is painted white. The bathroom has a sunroof and the view into the neighbouring back yards is so lovely. (I really want to live in an apartment to the left of us, on 63rd.)

Internet was functional. Megan was on her way.

Having travelled for so many hours (16 hours total, give or take), we wanted to take it easy. After Megan arrived and settled in, we needed food. I'd already researched and found Alice's Tea Cup - Chapter II was around the corner from us. It was packed! (We did arrive around 4pm though.) After putting our names down, we did a few blocks' sweep of Madison Avenue where (on the outside of the windows) I drooled over an ostrich feather skirt and some D&G heels.

The wait for tea at Alice's was worth it. The decor is lovely and they have a great selection of teas from around the world. What really surprised me was the fries though (I'd ordered a sandwich). They are seasoned and fried to the perfect amount of flavour and crisp-meets-crunch factor. There have been no fries in my recent memory that can rival these.

After tea, I realized I was way too tired and cold to venture anywhere further. We holed up in the apartment and turned on the TV. Maybe an hour later, I got a call about my luggage (yay!) but the caller hung up before I could ask his ETA.

Three hours later and many horrendous shows later, there was still no luggage. I started getting pretty pissed. I tried to call a customer support line: could not get through. I tried to call the number I'd received the call from earlier: could not get through. I tried another customer support line: mailbox full. I finally emailed them an angry letter but knew I'd get no response so late at night. (It was also President's Day. FML.)

I'd been in the same clothes for over 24 hours and I couldn't even brush my teeth. The hot water was no longer working either. We had lukewarm water at best and tried to boil some water (with the one and only pot in the apartment) for the tub.

By eleven I was giving up hope and ready to sleep in the same dirty clothes 'til I could shop for new ones the next day. At 10 minutes to midnight, my phone rang. My luggage! I raced downstairs to open the door and found the man holding a girly duffle bag. NOOOOOOOOOO!

I'd seen that same bag unclaimed on the carousel earlier. I was waiting on a blue suitcase. I had given the airline all the specifics of what my suitcase looked like. The man didn't know what to do. I just started going off about how I'd been waiting over twelve hours for my suitcase and how badly I needed it. I probably would have cried in another minute. He didn't think he had any blue suitcase in his truck, but he told me to come have a look with him. It was there pushed in the back under other luggage and surely, did not look blue under the truck's bad lighting. I thanked him profusely and hauled my suitcase best I could up the stairs.

It had started to snow but we decided to brave it for some groceries and toiletries. We were starving. One big bowl of KD later, we all climbed into bed and called it a (long and eventful) day.