How hard is it to buy stamps?

In the wee hours of Friday morning, I found myself in need of a stamp. Sadly, the Post Office half a mile from my house mysteriously removed their stamp machines some time ago, so I’ll have to turn elsewhere.

No problem, I think, the US Bank (an account I’ve kept open for no reason other than occasional fee-free ATM usage) is just as close and the ATM sells stamps. And so, off I go. After I go through the dozen or so steps necessary to purchase stamps the ATM informs me that my card has expired and asks if I want another transaction. Another transaction? WTF? No, thank you, just give me back my useless card.

So, I return home to search for the ATM card which I assume came, unnoticed, in the mail. No luck. If the card came, it apparently made its way, unnoticed, into the trash. OK, plan B. I can use the debit card for my primary account, pay a fee to everyone involved, and get my stamps. I return to the ATM, only to discover that neither of the possible PIN’s which come to mind will work so I’m thwarted once more.

Dejected, I turn for home and when I’m almost there I realize Fulmer’s (the very conveniently-located grocery store which I hate and never shop at) is open 24 hours and sells stamps. I turn around, zip over to Fulmer’s (which looks suspiciously dark) and head for the door. As I approach the doors a man inside meets me and indicates that they’re closed, they don’t open until 6. Huh, apparently they are no longer open 24 hours.

So after all of this, I head to the Kroger across town where I normally do my grocery shopping, which I know for certain was still open 24 hours as recently as last week. It is open. Victory is mine! Naturally the only cashier working is taking her break, and naturally, the guy filling in for her is unfamiliar with the stamp selling protocol, but after a few false-starts I finally have my stamps.

I place a stamp on my envelope, drive back across town to the Post Office right by my house (you know, the one where they took out the fucking stamp machines) and drop it in the mail. A mere 2 hours after I started this little adventure, I was safely back at home.

And that, friends, is how hard it is to buy stamps.

Hey look! A bat!

The basement of my building is, as basements tend to be, damp and musty. My new neighbor downstairs has complained about this, so the landlady decided the best solution to this problem was to leave the outside door to the basement open during sunny weather (as opposed to my solution, which I’ve been pushing for for years. Fix the raingutters so they’re not dumping right against the foundation).

Last night when I went to retrieve my laundry, I was greeted by a bat zooming back and forth across the basement until taking refuge from the light up inside the wall.

After puzzling over the situation for a bit, I decided that the best course of action was to open the door for a while, turn out the lights and hope that my bat left rather than inviting over some of his bat buddies. A couple of hours later I snuck back down, flashlight in hand… no bats. Well, none that I saw anyway. I’m hoping that once the lights went out he fluttered right out the open door and into the night, but who’s to say? Maybe he liked his hiding spot and just stayed there. The crazy thing is, this is now the second time I’ve had to contend with a bat inside this building since I’ve lived here. Also, the second time I’ve had to contend with a bat, period.

I Love New York (part 1)

“They” tell you not to make eye-contact with people in New York and for heaven’s sake, don’t speak to people in the city or on mass transit. I say ‘bullshit!’ Don’t talk to the visibly deranged or those who obviously don’t want to be bothered. Otherwise, go for it. Who knows what interesting conversations and experiences you might be missing, sitting in your insular fear-cloud.

Here’s a picture which perfectly illustrates my point:

If I hadn’t engaged him in conversation I could have said “I saw an interesting bike messenger on the train.”

Since I did, I had the pleasure of chatting with him for a bit and when I asked if I could take his picture, he struck this great pose. Just as you’d suspect from the photo, he was a very colorful and interesting character; one I never would have met if I’d listened to “them” and their “conventional wisdom”.