Moving day is officially over! Now that we’ve almost finished unpacking the last of our stuff in our new apartment. 14th floor, picture windows facing the setting sun, one month’s rent free, no security deposit, bus stop at the doorstep! All these sound like the stuff you say when you want someone to loan you a ton of cash and then forget about it. What’s that phrase now? ‘Too good to be true’. Aah… that’s the one.
The apartment is great. No arguments there. All the stuff they said was true too. To think we paid the money and signed the lease without even looking at it once! Things were surprisingly going well. We woke up to a lovely morning. Managed to pack all our stuff into the borrowed Jeep without breaking anything or leaving anything behind. Well begun, half done! Be still, my fluttering heart!
No traffic. Smooth sailing all the way to future paradise. Bought milk on the way for the house-warming. Got the first month’s rent as a cashier’s check without a hitch. We didnt even have to wait for the receptionist to buzz us into the building. A nice gentleman in a blue shirt opened the door for us on his way out. What a great start to a great day! I know you’re waiting for the twist in the tale. This was it.
To the receptionist: “What do you mean the building manager is out? We got all our stuff outside in a car and now we have nowhere to go!” The wife (this is her intro scene on this blog, so big applause everyone! HURRAY!!) calls her boss to postpone the 12:00 noon meeting to 3PM, while I’m killing time trying to catch the fish on my cellphone screensaver. Tip for distracting an anxious wife from a worrying thought: give her something bigger to think about: “Hey, we didnt park the car in the shade. Do you think the milk will go bad?”
We stared at every male who was unfortunate enough to be walking in that lobby that day. “It’s not like the building manager will have ‘ANDRE’ tattooed on his forehead“, I tell my wife, who looks ready to eat me in one gulp. Angry mood +Silly joke = Bad timing. Lesson learnt. My would-be-on-fire butt is saved by a distraction: “Isn’t that the blue shirt guy who let us into the building?“, my wife asks me. To be honest, I dont know. Wrong answer! Wrong answer! So I go with, “You know what? I guess you’re right. You have a keen eye“.
10 minutes later I find out that Mr. Blue Shirt is the building manager. “It didn’t occur to your pigeon-head to tell us that he just walked out the door when we were coming in?“, I screamed at the receptionist. Not out loud, but that’s a totally different issue. The point is that I won the argument.
This time we get to see OUR apartment and not the model flat. In the next one hour, this will be our first OUR VERY OWN PLACE! The wife is more excited than ever. Three back-breaking hours later we manage to haul the last piece of hellishly heavy luggage into our new home. It turns out they made the wrong keys for our door, so that put us off the schedule by “just a sec”. At 4pm Tuesday, we finally said a prayer, boiled the milk and finally declared the place ours. CONQUERED!
You should check out our night-time view by the way. Gorgeous. WALL OF WINDOWS! And no ventilation. So when we cook, we have to keep the other rooms closed so that my wife dont smell like spinach pasta the next time she wears a formal shirt to work. Small problem though. None of the doors latch! Icing on the cake: NOT EVEN THE BATHROOM DOOR. We crossed out almost everything on the apartment acceptance form and gave it back with an evil laughter. I had the same satisfaction surge through me as it did when we gave anonymous feedback to our MBA professors.
Did I mention we have a superb view? And what makes a superb view an AWESOME view? Great weather. Three weeks of annoying rain finally gave way to golden sunshine. Too good to be true. Exactly.
Receptionist: “The a/c units won’t be started before the 15th of May. Maybe a little earlier, but don’t count on it”
Me: ##$@%$^^&$%&*&%~@!!!! (But not out loud)