Catching up... THE SUPER

Upcoming is the 1 year anniversary of my move to NYC. I went back and read some of my blogs, and as the social networking technology changes, so do I. These are the Days of Our Lives. Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Ok... here's the thing: I miss writing. So I have decided to update notes with my old blogs starting at the beginning of my move and moving forward from now... or slightly before now as I am sure I have many interesting stories since I've written about a year ago.

The story below is after I very first moved to the city:

June 10th
And so it begins...

I should remind everyone that my super speaks Russian, not English. That being said, every time I need something done, I practically have to drag him up to my apartment and point at the problem. SO, after doing that about 3 times already, I figured I didn't want to be a problem child. BUT! There was an exception...

As you all may know (or may not, but don't worry, I'll inform you anyways) IT IS SO HOT UP HERE!!!! Needless to say, I still don't have an AC unit in my apartment, for two reasons. 1. It's heavy and I don't want to carry it back to my place, and 2. I fear I might drop it 5 stories out of my window trying to install the damn thing by myself (because God forbid I ask the Russian super for something else). All that aside, I find myself basking in cold showers and sitting in front of fans. So, on Friday night, I was taking a nice cold shower and once I finished up, I decided to make my way to the main room of my studio and a half (I will not call it a JR. 1 bedroom anymore bc it isnt. It is a studio and a half, dangit). And on my way out of the bathroom, I encounter a SMALL problem.

I was locked in. with no phone.

Yeah, that's right. I figured that the knob, which must be PREwar (civil war, might I add), was just being tricky and that perhaps if I gave it a minute, I might be able to turn it and thus let myself out of the bathroom. Um, nope. I was wrong. I gave it a little while... Tried to turn again. NOTHING. In fact, I started to turn so hard that I unscrewed the dang handle and it came off... I quickly screwed it back on for fear that I would NEVER be able to get out of the bathroom if the whole thing fell off. So then I am standing there, dripping wet contemplating my options. A) open the window and scream for help. And hope that some little spanish child hears my calls and can understand english enough to let someone know that there is an american girl stuck in her bathroom on the 5th floor in apartment 50. B) wait till my friend calls and calls and cannot reach me and freaks out enough to call the cops. And then have the cops see me the next morning in nothing but a bathrobe drenched in, not only water from my cold shower, but also tears. Or option C) which was the one I chose, to break down the damn door. So I sat on my floor and braced myself against my wall (here is where I can thank god that my bathroom is THAT small that I can reach the door and the wall for leverage at the same time) and push as hard as I can. And I broke the door open. THANK GOD.

This is where I marched down to the supers door and, still sopping wet, brought him to my apartment where I busted open the bathroom door. He had the nerve to tell ME, that the manager would be MAD bc I broke the door. UMMM EXCUSE ME??!?!?!??! I just got locked in my bathroom bc your stupid "manager" hasn't changed the door knob since Lincoln was in office, and you're yelling at ME??!!! Uh, no.

Then he added insult to injury by looking me up and down and saying (through laughter and a heavy russian accent) "you struong"

Very funny. Laugh it up russian boy. So not funny.

But now I can laugh at the whole experience.

WELCOME TO NY!!

Ps... If anyone feels like sending a care package, include ice packs that I can throw in the freezer and stuff into pillows while I sleep to keep me cool. Thankyouverymuch. (or you could send a new working door knob for my bathroom)