New York: Part One of Many

Ah New York.  Once upon a time, way back at the end of August, a young bachelorette packed her bags and  traveled to a far off land, full of bright lights, delicious food, expensive drinks, and good friends.  The four days spent in this magical land were packed with laughter and excitement, and even as she became exhausted and her pocket book grew thinner, she still longed to stay forever in this land of Big Apples.  (Though she remained just as perplexed as ever as to how it had come to be known as this "Big Apple" as she did not see one solitary apple in all of her adventures.) Eventually, she returned home, full of stories and new experiences to share, but there was always something more pressing to do, something more important that needed to be taken care of.  Now that nearly a month has passed, this same young bachelorette is cursing herself for not writing down the events of the weekend at a much sooner date and in much greater detail than she could possibly remember now.  And so she decided to sit down and do the best she could and told herself (just as usual) that next time she would do better!

Thursday

After a slight delay, due to packed runways at LaGuardia, my plane touched down in New York around 10:30 at night.  I had decided to come in on Thursday night, since apparently flying all the way across the country and losing three hours to the Time Zone monster takes up most of a day.  I wanted to get started as soon as possible on Friday and this seemed like the best option.  My sister made similar plans and since our planes were landing around the same time we agreed to meet at LaGuardia and split the Super Shuttle to the apartment we'd rented out for the weekend.

Once off the plane, I went to baggage claim to wait for my bag and my sister's phone call... and I waited... and waited...  Eventually Brittany called, and I told her to get her bags, put our names on the list for the shuttle and I'd meet her when my bag arrived.  I waited for the longest, most nerve wracking 45 minutes that I've experienced in quite some time, but finally I saw my lone red bag coming around on the luggage belt, the last little soldier to be deployed.  As my luggage and I were reunited, I took my first non-queasy breath and proceeded to call Brittany to find out where she was waiting.  Of course, the one thing that hadn't occurred to us was that we would be landing in different terminals.  And that LaGuardia is very big.  And you can't just stroll over from Terminal D to Terminal B.

It was already approaching midnight at this point, and the adrenaline rush I'd been counting on, after 4 hours of sleep the night before and traveling for 14 hours, wasn't kicking in yet.  In a dazed state I stood outside of the terminal, asking every bus driver who stopped near me if they were going to Terminal B.  Since the majority did not speak English as a first, or possibly even second language, it was a bit slow going, but eventually I got on the right bus and was dropped off at the proper terminal where my sister was waiting near Ground Transportation.  We later realized that we didn't bother to say hello or have any sort of emotional reunion--we just collapsed in our seats, compared the hellish experiences our various flights were, and waited for the Super Shuttle guy to call our names.

What I've learned after two experiences with the Super Shuttle is that one can only consider the twenty bucks saved, when compared to a cab ride, a bonus if one has 2-3 hours at their disposal and doesn't mind an up close and personal encounter of that length with a city full of irate New York city cabbies and bus drivers.  I feel like I'm stuck in an abusive relationship.  I always say I'm never going back, and then they lure me in with their low fares and classic good looks.

Our tricksy apartment door and the luxurious interior.  (Katie and I had apparently not had our V8 that day)

Anyway, we finally arrived at our apartment in the wee hours of the morning, around 1:30, and got the key from our doorman.  (Ha!  "Our" doorman.)  The lobby seemed nice enough, the elevators were decent, and then we stepped out on the fifth floor and were greeted with a smell somewhere between cat food and sweaty feet.  For those of you who are keeping track, that would be red flag number one.  As utterly exhausted as I was, I didn't have the energy to worry about it at that point, and Brittany stuck the key in the lock and we prepared to enter our humble abode.  Except the key didn't seem to do anything.  Red flag number two.  We tried again, turning the key the other way.  Nothing.  After a few more futile attempts with the key, we moved to a credit card, thinking that maybe the lock was broken.  Proving that our careers would go nowhere on the B&E track, we succeeded only in bending my New York & Company credit card (the most action it's gotten in years) and we were still stuck out in the hallway.  Reaching levels of desperation we proceeded to ring the doorbell and pound on the door, thinking that... okay, I have no idea what we thought that would accomplish, but we were tired.

At some point reason took hold again, and Brittany went downstairs to ask the doorman how the heck we were supposed to actually gain entrance into the apartment.  It was revealed that the trick was to turn the key and push--the knob on the door actually had nothing to do with the door opening process.  See, these are things you should TELL people who have never stayed in your apartment!

I shall digress for a moment to explain that the reason we decided to rent out an apartment for the weekend, rather than staying in a hotel was three-fold.  One, the rate seemed to be much lower than a standard New York hotel, and then when split four ways seemed like an absolute steal.  Two, we also figured that with four to five girls staying in one room, we'd need the extra space, and this apartment was billed as a "Spacious, luxury New York apartment!" and claimed that it could sleep 6-8 people.  And three, it just seemed way more awesome to stay in an apartment than a hotel. Except it turns out the apartment was decorated by a blind donkey with a penchant for quilts, and the "spacious" studio was approximately the size of my living room.  Also, the toilet wasn't flushed when we got there and the furniture was covered in dust.  Consider yourself warned, future New York tourists--the internet is a lying, misleading piece of crap!  Just get yourself a room at the DoubleTree and eat a delicious chocolate chip cookie for me.

Once the excitement of entering the apartment was over, we briefly batted around the idea of going to get something to eat, but instead opted to get some sleep since it was already after two and my alarm was set for 7:30 the next morning.

And I'll pick back up again with Friday morning, and the arrival of the lovely Carolyn in the morning, and the somewhat more entertaining and suspense-filled arrival of Katie that evening.  I'll leave you with this picture of me grinning maniacally by the Bryant Park sign in the subway.  Because as many times as Brittany tried to tell me about all of the other culturally significant events that take place there throughout the year, all I could do anytime I saw this sign was shriek "Project Runway!  Ooooh, I love that show!"

Comments

[Kate]

Sad. I want to go back :( And you post this on a Sunday night before a full week of work! I know what I'll be daydreaming about!

[Brittany]

Aw... that was fun!! I forgot that we didn't even say hello... ha... better luck next time!

Maybe we'll go again and stay at the Double Tree? How's October look for you? ;)

[Joseph]

Glad you enjoyed our...um...erm...subway sign during your visit. I'll see what I can do about stealing it and sending it off you to as a way of repaying you for the lies our people spouted over the internet.

[Clink]

Wait, the toilet wasn't flushed? It wasn't...flushed? Sorry, I can't seem to get over that.

[Fraulein N]

I love that you guys rang the doorbell. That's too precious.

(And yes, something I probably would've done as well.)

[Michelle]

I'm with Clink. Who doesn't flush the toilet when they're renting a place? Gross.

[aerync]

Thanks for stopping by my blog!!

Oh you got fooled by the luxuriously spacious new york apartment routine....although it probably could have been spacious for new york sizes. From the pictures, if that was a studio, it was very nicely sized!! My room is literally the size of a shoe. Not the shoebox, but the shoe. And i've seen worse!

And um...the toilet wasn't flushed? That is disgusting.

[Becky]

That was always my fear with renting anything privately from an individual, but it seems like you guys made the most of it. How fun to go to NY with a bunch of girlfriends!

[L]

Ew. There was stuff in the toilet? Ew.

[Ashlie]

Don't you just loooove New York? I've been there a couple times this year and can't wait to go back.

I really, really love being a flight attendant. If you have any questions about it feel free to email me. I used to work for Alaska Airlines and they are a great company. They also have a base in Seattle. Just throwing that out there ;)

[TasterSpoon]

Oh, and you girls look so glamorous! Keep posting so I can live vicariously.