Over the long weekend, Station moved into the apartment. Thanks to his dad and brother-in-law and my brother-in-law he was able to get moved in pretty quickly with little to no bruises. We were able to get the record player, bed, couches and some other things that Station pawned off his family.
The only problem thus far is situating the darn couches. In my grandma's front room they look spacious, but in our little front room they look huge. And Station is questioning their comfort level.
Anyway, once we got all of his 300 records and 5000 shoes we waited around for the pizza to get there. Station may have the address of where we are to be living, but I have yet to know the exact address. So I just gave an about address and hoped for a quick delivery. Finally I got a call and saw the pizza man walking around across the street going to every apartment with a one on it. I told him to turn around and he turned half way and said he knew where we were and would be there soon. Once I saw him go to the same door, I called and told him that I am across the street. Finally as he was walking around for another five minutes. I started waving frantically to get that pizza over to the hungry men that were starting to crowd around the door. Once the pizza guy got there he was able to show me where my address number is for future pizza men to get to me quicker. For having not known my future address and never ordering pizza I would say that I did a pretty swell job.
After the delightful pizza. Station and I were ready for a drink. Since there is a gas station conveniently across the street we thought we would slide over. Once I rattled with the keys and saw that he was rattling with the keys too, we both set down the keys and walked outside. As soon as we walked down the steps Station turned to me and asked if I had the keys. I said no. We both looked at each other and didn't know what to do. This new apartment is an automatic locking door. Great for things like creeping cats or roaming strangers, but not so great for people who forget their keys.
Once we realized that we don't have the keys Station habitually grabbed for his wallet and phone. He didn't have his phone. I didn't have my phone. Our landlord never has her phone. We are stranded at our own apartment. We skittered around to the side of the building to hope that maybe we left the back door open. Because that tends to happen. But as we were walking over, I remembered the swamp cooler that my dad was telling me would make our house easier to break into. And it is. Station propped me up while I dangled the cooler with one hand while trying to grip the wall. After trying to situate myself, Station and I decided to just let it drop. And once I did that, Station left me dangling for my life, on the first level, don't be fooled it was high. I got a hip cramp from trying to squeeze my body through the slit of a window while Station waited at the door.
After tripping over the already abused swamp cooler, I ran to the door and we both grabbed the keys. We began to start the trek over only to find that we happen to live across the street of the only gas station in the universe that closes at ten. So we sulked our way back to our apartment, with our keys, and stayed thirsty all night. Well, Station did. I went home and had a large glass of water with ice.
And that is the story of what will probably happen ten times to me and never again to Station. I guess that says something about learning from mistakes.
