Welcome to Brooklyn

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

I’m realizing that it’s the little things about my apartment that I need to fix first. The big projects can happen slowly, but the everyday nuisances demand attention. For example, the toilet runs and the kitchen sink’s faucet leaks. (Both are easy repairs that simply require a trip to the hardware store.) I’m also desperate to get California Closets in to maximize my closet space. (You may think this is silly, but it was absolutely the best money I spent improving my last apartment.)

One little, but not so little nuisance is that there is currently no gas in my apartment, which means I can’t cook. I called Keyspan last week to set up an appointment to get the gas turned on. They gave me a window from 12:00 to 6:00 on Friday, and I asked if there was any way to get a shorter window (seeing as I have a full time job and all). I was told that for $20 I could narrow the time window down to two hours. I decided it was worth it, so I arranged to have the gas man come between 4:00 and 6:00 on Friday evening.

That afternoon I left work early and arrived home by 3:45, in case the gas company was running early. I waited and waited and waited, and when 6:30 rolled around I had to dash out the door in order to be on time for dinner. I was mad that I had left work early and wasted an afternoon waiting around for the gas company, and further, I was annoyed that no one had even called me to let me know that no one was coming. Well, they did call. At 10:20 that night my cell phone rang and it was Keyspan phoning to let me know that the gas man was at my apartment waiting to be let it. By that time, I was on the Upper West Side, and there was no way for me to let anyone in to the apartment. And further, as a single girl, there is not a chance in the world I would have let a strange man into my apartment that late on a Friday night. Call me a sissy, it just doesn’t seem like a safe idea. After I had hung up my phone and explained the situation to my dear friend Corrine, a long-time Brooklyn resident, she had a good laugh. Once she’d laughed a bit, she raised her glass as if in a toast and said, “Welcome to Brooklyn, baby.” Indeed: Welcome to Brooklyn.


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