So my first day moved back onto the island, I spent ironically in Brooklyn. Now understand there are all sorts of areas in Brooklyn, just like there are in Manhattan. I lived in the not so fabulous part. My therapist whom I adore lives in this great are of Brooklyn called Park Slope. I walk around this area at time envisioning myself married with kids, that’s how nice it is. Proudly I figure out my way there via four train changes and we do our thing. Then following I have a dermatologist appointment right down the block. Lunch in between while still picturing a nice life here in the neighborhood. See the doctor and then decide that I am going to head to IKEA since I don’t have any form of a bed and sleeping in the recliner was all well and good last night while I was drunk however the fat that it will not stay back will become a problem while sober. I hop on the B train after calling the automated voice of BK IKEA and keep looking for the stop. And looking. Well I end up in Coney Island. I get off the train and ask the MTA guy where the hell IKEA is and he laughs and tells me to enjoy the long ride back. Ready for this: it was one stop in the other direction from where I started! Almost wanting to give up and go home, I pause re-gather myself and get off at the correct stop. Another questioning of the tollbooth to find out that I need to cross the street and hop on a “shuttle bus” to IKEA. I get on and ask if it s the right one and forty five minutes of standing in rush hour bus stops and gos I see the holy land. First thing I do is hit the bathroom then begin to wander about. I have inherited this cheapness thing from my father and not like to think about spending lots of money; therefore I sought out the less expensive bed frame I could find. My roommate said he knew a mattress guy so this was all I really needed. To get a clear picture of this scenario now, here I am with a 1 x 7 box hauling to the check out making a game plan for the overcrowded bus and two subway changes home. I paid my $40 plus tax and exited. A man approached me and asked if I was taking the bus home. I proudly said yes as I was determined to tackle this. He told me he could give me a ride home for $40…SOLD!
I assemble my bed and Jase comes up with cushions from the couch as my mattress until he can find the guys number. So for two nights I do that. Then this girl appears whom he is apparently dating but asking me if I yell at my boyfriend all the time. To which I just replied no, and he tells me that she yells at him all the time. Good relationship, I reply. So this girl shows up and hands me an air mattress. Either she feels sorry for me or wants the couch cushions back were they belong. Whatever ii is, while listening to her yell at him, my air mattress is losing air. Apparently she punched a hole in it…I am not quite sure how that did anything to him, just me. I visit this “mattress guy” and boy is he creepy. He is doing his sales pitch and I call him out on it and tell him that I am just looking for something cheap. I got a hell of a deal and delivery this time. And when he asked for my phone number I faked it and got the hell out of there. Three days later heaven arrived and I have been sleeping like a baby ever since. The mattress combined with Jase wising up about the girl makes for quite evenings.
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