152. DATE THREE IN A ROW WITH TOWN AND COUNTRY

On Saturday morning I wake up and press snooze one more time. I am quite excited, but a little suspicious for my third date in a row with Town and Country. I have found dating in New York rather hard and the men challenging. All the articles I read, saying New York is the hardest place to meet a man, are not helping. Some days I would prefer to have root canal than go on a date. So is it possible that I’ve stumbled onto a guy who doesn’t believe in the abnormal cloak-and-dagger-gonna-call-not-gonna-call-you Manhattan game? Is it possible Town and Country thinks, when you are interested in someone, it is normal to go out with them three days in a row? In any case, it is delightful to date a man who wants to date me.

When the alarm goes off again I push away the covers and hop into the shower. As I wash my hair I wonder what one wears to a flea market. I already wore black pants on Thursday night and jeans last night. It is still too cold to wear a skirt and probably too dressy. I turn off the water and notice that a 12-inch pool of standing water has collected. But I did take an EXTRA long shower and it is not usual for the water to sluggishly move through the old pipes.

I jump out of the shower, and pull on a black turtleneck and fitted jeans. I pop back into the bathroom to put on my make-up and see the water has not HAS NOT drained one teeny tiny bit and this makes me nervous. But not wanting to panic before my date, I calmly put on my blush, eye-shadow and mascara. In that time there is no reduction in the water level. I leave the bathroom, change purses, come back and see again no recession in the water.

Because I don’t know what time I am coming home or the first thing about plumbing, I don’t know if I can leave the tub like this. And I don’t have time to wait for the super to come address the issue. So I race into the kitchen, find a pot and start scooping one pan-full of water out of the tub and into the toilet. Ugh. So gross. When I am done playing plumber I have to change my clothes because I am drenched in sweat and dirty tub water.

For some reason last night I offered to pick up coffee so I lock the apartment and rush to Starbucks. I get to the cafe and find it PACKED. When did all these people move in my neighborhood? And why are they all awake at this hour? I glance at my watch. Town and Country lives a solid hour away from me, now that it is 8:10 a.m., I wonder if I can meet him by 9:00 a.m. Screw it, I can get coffees downtown. There are two Starbucks at Columbus Circle.

I scurry across the street and find that the A train is not running its regular route. I have to take a shuttle bus to 168th Street and then take an A train running local not express. Because I boarded the most unhurried A train train known to Manhattan we arrive into the 125th Street Station at 8:30 a.m. WOW. At this pace Town and Country will be dating someone new by the time I reach his house. And because I am underground I cannot EVEN text him to tell him my troubles with transport. Luckily my life is not a complete joke, and a D train (runs express to 59th Street) pulls into the Harlem station. I grab my purse, run across the platform, board and we arrive Columbus Circle 10 minutes later.

Once in Midtown I begin to think that I may be able to make an on-time arrival if I can get coffee in five minutes and hail a cab. In the manner of an insane woman I dodge taxis and traffic across 58th Street into Starbucks. Keeping with my “everything that can go wrong, will go wrong" morning, it takes the barista what feels like an eternity to pour two coffees into the cups at the SLOWEST Starbucks E-V-E-R.

I hail a cab, give the driver the address and sink into the seat. Man this is a lot of work for a flea market date. I cannot believe fate is conspiring against me so early in the morning. The only thing that can go wrong is if we get hit by a bus. And I double-dog dare fate to piss me off now.