Vernal sat behind her high desk, reading a magazine and chewing on a muffin. I approached her desk and gave her what I fear was a watery smile--this was my last barrier between me and my illegal sublet. She responded by picking up a clipboard marked "Mail Delivery".I cleared my throat.
With infinite slowness she turned her head to look at me, which I viewed as a cue to watery smile #2. "Uhm--I'm moving in, and I'm supposed to check in with you about it. The truck is at the back door."
"Yeah?"
"Gerard said I was supposed to check in with you."
"Yeah?"
"The truck is waiting outside." I was beginning to realize I had to put some attitude into this relationship.
"Yeah?"
"Actually, YEAH." We glared at each other for about 30 seconds, before she slowly reached out a beautifully manicured hand and picked up a walkie-talkie. (A walkie-talkie?? They still make them?) Keeping her eyes on me the entire time, she called the garage and told them to open the doors, that there was a truck out back. When she put the w-t down, I leaned forward and held out my hand. "My name's Elusive D." I said. Reluctantly she shook my hand, and then her attitude improved slightly.
It wasn't friendliness, it was the $20 I'd just slipped her. Should have started with that. I'd realized I was going to be raining $20 on people that day, and Vernal was the place to start. Also donated to the garage door guy (who had a face like an eager teddy bear).
20 minutes later I was in my apartment, and the furniture was coming up. . .slowly. Slowly the boxes came in, and I was directing the traffic. My sofa had been wrapped in saran wrap, and appeared without a scuff on it--same with my Grandmother's chairs. Nothing was broken, nothing was dented, nothing was lost. Once again I will recommend New York Magazine's choice for Best of Movers--they were absolutely stellar. And that ride in their Pope-Mobile was fantastic.
By 5:00 I was alone in my apartment--in 3 hours they'd moved everything, and set up the furniture, put the tv on its stand (which I could have done, but it wouldn't have been smart or pretty). They'd put all of my pictures in a box for transport, wrapped the furniture, set up my futon, and done it all in an hour less than their estimate. They did charge me $30 for the wrapping up of tv, pictures etc. . .but that's all right. All in all, the move cost me a whisker beneath $300. Pretty flipping fabulous, I think.
And outside my window the lights of Manhattan were gleaming, I could see Columbus Avenue below--cyclists speeding along, taxis gliding, pedestrians beginning to feel the chill of a late September night. I can see tennis courts and roof-top gardens, brownstones and walk-ups, and long thin trees stretching towards the light, waving in the wind.
And I was home.
Long may it last, please God.
Long may this odd and wonderful gift last!
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