Memory Lane Monday: (What I hope will be) The Final Installment of My Shit Hole Apartment

I haven't posted one of these stories in a while, even though many of you (all 3 of you) have told me how much you like them. The reason for this is mostly because I haven't had any really blog-worthy apartment stories lately. On one hand I'm thankful, but on the other hand it means I actually have to come up with my own topics and that's just exhausting after spending most of the day looking for actual paying work, while trying to keep my inner demons at bay. But I digress...

 So far I don't have any crazy apartment stories from our new digs here in Cali mostly because even though we're certainly not living in a giant Hollywood McMansion or anything, our current residence is such a vast improvement over almost anywhere I ever lived in NYC, that I just don't have the capacity to complain about it yet. Other than our extremely pot-enthusiastic neighbors downstairs who like to hold band practice everyday all day (and boy oh boy they turn it up to 11) our place isn't awful. So without further ado, I give you the absolute last story possible from our Queens Shit-Hole Apartment:

The Final (NYC) Installment of My Shit-Hole Apartment:

Fucking Seriously?!

It was no secret that Boyfriend and I were moving out of our shitty Queens apartment, and out of NYC. All of our neighbors who bothered to peek their heads out of their windows knew it. Neighbors we'd never even spoke to in the 2.5 years we lived there knew we were moving and asked us about it. Even Crazy Mary across the hall wished us luck a couple of days before we left. Crazy. This same woman who a month prior had gotten really high/drunk and fallen asleep while she had something on the stove which made the smoke alarm go off, which made the fire department and the building super have to clamber through our apartment to get to the fire escape to break into her apartment and take care of the situation.  Given Crazy Mary's history, what happened the night before Boyfriend, Leeloo and I were to hit the road for the west coast should not have come as such a shock, but it came as the final boot in the ass from NYC.

The day before moving day, we were set to load up the car, and it was hectic to say the least. I don't remember much except that it was just one long anxiety attack for me, and poor Leeloo wasn't doing much better. It was a flurry of activity and troubled breathing and crying fits as Boyfriend and I tried to get rid of the last of our furniture and pack the last of our belongings hoping against all hope that everything would fit in our car. 

This is not far from the truth

Our dear friends, Krista, and Jen even came over late that night to help us pack, clean, shove the last of our things into the van, and say our final farewells.  Around midnight, Boyfriend, Leeloo and I tried to settle on to our air mattress in the middle of our living room for one last short night's sleep.  Little did we know how short it would be...

At around 3am, there came a banging on our door, followed by the unmistakeable shrill skull-splitting sound of our neighbor, Crazy Mary yelling, "Neighbor?!  Neighbor?!?!  Is your cable out?"  Boyfriend and I both groggily said, "What the fuck?!" as Leeloo sprinted around the living room barking furiously.  Boyfriend and I tried to ignore the banging on our door for a moment, yet it continued.  It continued for an unnecessarily long time especially since it was 3am and no one was dying.  All the while Crazy Mary kept yelling "Neighbor?! Neighbor?!"

Finally, Boyfriend climbed off the mattress and opened the door violently.  Again, Crazy Mary asked if our cable was out.  Boyfriend growled, "I. Don't. Know.  It's 3 o'clock in the morning.  We are moving across the country in 3 hours.  We have no cable, we don't even have a TV anymore."

And in classic Crazy Mary fashion, she replied, "Oh. Sorry,"  nonplussed as ever.

Fucking Crazy Mary.

Of all the nights that we needed some sleep, this was the one.  Did we get it?  Of course not.  Not on our last night as New Yorkers.  It was like the bow on the gift that is living in NYC.

I'm sure I will have some more shit-hole apartment stories in the future at least until Boyfriend and I can be real-live adults and buy a house, but until then, life is not horrible, and our current place is not so bad...yet.