Wishing and Hoping And….

Last night, after a long break-up with Craigslist…I gave it another chance.

And there it was….an apartment. Not just any apartment, but, a shared apartment, an apartment that was dirt cheap, not just dirt cheap, but, a brand new, dirt cheap, on Wall Street, not about the money but totally about if we like you so it’s dirt cheap, even though it’s brand new, fully furnished, so beautiful it brings tears to your eyes apartment.

The ad was three days old.

I gave it a shot.

This morning, while on my way to work with the semi-asleep Jarhead, who is used to a nocturnal schedule, and nods off on the train, I had a call…

They picked me to call about the apartment.

“Well, it will more than likely be rented by 5P…we’ve showed it to so many people.” he said.

“Oh.”

“But, if you can get to 14^th and 8^th with $200 on the back of a donkey, you can have it.”

“I’m on the 4, it’s bogged down, but, I’m so there.”

Pause.

“I was joking.”

“I’m not…” and I went over the living situation.

He again explained this was not about money… this place was all about who they liked as a roommate. They could easily get $2500 a month for the place, and trust me, looking at the website of the flat they are buying, that would still be on the low end.

We spoke some more. He’s had emails from all over the world, in spite of a specific sentence in the ad stating not to contact them if you aren’t in the US.

Pause.

“Call me when you get there, to 14^th and 8^th. Let’s see how it goes.”

So, here I sit… waiting. The Jarhead is walking the dogs, I just helped Greg run his lines… who’s Greg? Greg was a nice young actor who was sitting next to me and has an audition at 4P. I spoke to Pan and her mother, who is from Texas. The mom is visiting….she loves New York, she said. I spoke to a young woman who was a day early for the job interview of her life. She was outside, crying…so, I went outside and asked what was wrong. I mean, when you see someone sobbing that hard, you don’t walk past. We talked and I told her..you haven’t made your first impression yet. You do that tomorrow. They only know by a phone call you were a day early. Go back to work, get up tomorrow… and make that first impression. The only person who knows you are upset is you. I think she’ll get the job.

I’m waiting. Every once in awhile, I go over and buy something, in order to keep the owner of the deli from asking me to leave.

Have you ever noticed how the deli food looks so amazing on Monday? It’s fresh and clean and appetizing? Wednesdays, it’s starting to go a bit… the lettuce has lost the fresh look, starting to slide downhill like a town that the interstate bypassed. By Fridays, the bombing of Dresden is complete. You fear touching the California rolls, the chicken has a covering you aren’t sure is a prepared sauce, and everything with a sauce has a firm surface.

I carefully go though the items…picking lightweight things… careful, careful… lettuce, chickpeas, perhaps some hearts of palm…it’s still light as a feather. This will be a cheap lunch. One California roll… some ginger… good going, Quin!

And I see them… the strawberries. Big. Juicy. Red.

Heavy.

I end up paying $5.32 for four strawberries and a small amount of salad. Every time…every single time.

Bastards.

I’m thinking right now, its 4.21. I trust that Trojan horse, Hope. They are going to come here between appointments with attorneys and such. I may lose my money from the current flat, as I’d have to move in right away.

I can do that.

It’s worth using up every penny I have stashed away if I get this, it’s worth not having a place of my own, and it’s worth moving those big ass bags again. It’s worth the ninety minutes I’ve sat here, and the ninety more I’ll sit here.

Yep, it’s worth all of that.

Never hurts to hope. If nothing else, I had some great strawberries.