I think there was a power in the Universe pulling me away from the apartment before I even arrived. With New York having the easiest subway network in the world to navigate, I somehow managed to end up in Queens rather than Harlem when I was on my way to check in. The B&B is located right by the subway stop on 135th Street so how I jumped on the wrong train (for 20 minutes before realising) is beyond me. When I finally arrived the love child of Whitney Houston (post crack) and Sweet Brown (ain't nobody got time for that) was waiting for me behind a padlocked gate. We made our way through the courtyard to the house where I would be staying. It was a Narnia type environment with fruit trees and foliage lining the path to the apartment door. What soon became clear was that I was not staying with the Huxtables in their cream carpeted Harlem brownstone but with the Browns, a crazy random figurine filled apartment behind their actual home. Not a problem as cheap and kitschy are two of my favourite things.
My room wasn't ready for me to move in when I arrived. It wasn't right but it was ok. I told Whitney she could make it up later on in the day. I was heading out to Manhattan til later in the evening anyway. However, when I came back at 8pm the room still wasn't ready. There was just a white plastic sheet on the bed with nothing else in sight. It was 8 o'clock in the evening and my room still hadn't been prepared. I stood there like a gormless lemon for a few minutes pondering whether this was how it was supposed to be. Did I have to bring my own sheets, quilt, pillows, etc? I couldn't believe I was going to be sleeping on a plastic sheet actually. It was at this point that my brain said to me 'what the hell have you booked?'. After a few minutes of goon-like staring at the white sheet the landlady came in.
'You came back?'.
'erm yes'.
'Oh you came back early. My husband took me out for dinner... You came back?'
Well no shit Sherlock. Of course I would be coming back. Oh my days. Think I preferred the room when it wasn't ready. Over the white plastic sheet was an incredibly thin multi-coloured polyester sheet ingrained with dirt. It was disgusting. There was a quilt and blanket over it with practically identical stains. But being quite late at night I had no choice but accept it.
The house had wooden shutters on all the windows instead of blinds or curtains. To be honest, I got the feeling that you could see into my bedroom even when the light was off. What a paranoid android. I didn't want to be seen going to the bathroom late at night from outside so I closed a shutter in the hallway which was near my bedroom door. About half an hour later I had the fright of my life. Everywhere had low voltage lights so it was really difficult to see when it was dark. I was making my way to the bathroom across the hall when all of a sudden a figure in the dark startled me. It was the landlady. She went over to the shutter I had closed and opened it. Then channeling the spirit of Whitney, gave me some spiel about how better it would be to keep the shutter open. You know, because of the views of the garden and that. In pitch black darkness!!! She obviously just wanted to see inside. I was staying in this four bedroom townhouse all by myself. I would have heard noises from opening doors and feet walking up stairs but I never heard her enter the building. She was like a ninja. Now, not only did I get the impression that I really WAS being watched but I felt a bit queasy that Sweet Whitney would turn up at any given second and I wouldn't have a clue.
Sleeping on a plastic sheet and dirty linen is not a pleasurable experience. Waking up to find an ant crawling on my bed was even less so. Looking to my left and seeing a handful of ants pottering about the window cil was even less so than that. I woke up as an extra on Antz. They were coming in thick and fast. Just like everything seems to be bigger in America these ants were no exception. They were massive. I told the landlady that there was a bit of a problem and ant killer was needed. For some strange reason, I didn't believe that she would do anything about it so I went to Home Depot and bought some poison myself. Later on in the evening when I returned I was right. She hadn't done anything, except water the dozens of trees lining her courtyard. The Message by Grandmaster Flash started playing in my head as I was watching dozens of ants pile into my bedroom from every crevice along the window. I ended up getting some kitchen paper and started stuffing it into all of the open cracks along the cil I could find. The light in my bedroom didn't work (probably intentionally to hide the dirt and bugs) so I was using a flashlight on my phone. I had the second fright of my life when I looked up to see the silhouette created by one piece of paper. I thought it was a giant ant coming in to attack me.
It took a couple of days to stop the flow of ants but finally I could relax at night. A few days later I was riding the subway quite late at night with just another lady in the same carriage as me. Just as I was getting ready to make my way out at the next stop I looked up and saw an advert on the wall of the train. It was for a suitcase where the unique selling feature was that it kills bed bugs. Yeah you heard me, a suitcase that kills bed bugs!!! It heats up with an electrical socket and everything. I had quite a good giggle with my fellow passenger about how crazy this product was. I went home thinking that it was the kind of ridiculous thing that the Apprentice candidates would pitch to Lord Sugar or Donald Trump. Then low and behold what do I find on my bed. A massive bed bug!!!! I kid you not. I had just travelled around the world, slept in over 30 different lodgings and the first bed bug experience I had was just after I had taken the mick out of a bed bug killing suitcase on the subway. How ironic. So just as I had overcome one bug battle I was beginning another. I'm not a celebrity, get me the hell out of here!!!!!
Lucky for me I developed a love affair with New York City many years before I stayed in the Thomas Family B&B. Had this been my first time to the city I think my experience would have been slightly different. The owners were nice people. It's just a shame they didn't give housework the attention they seem to have given their garden. "If you want to write me a little review on Tripadvisor...?" said the landlady just before I left. Well if I consider the price, to quote Whitney... it's not right but it's ok.
1 comment:
Quite funny
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