Monday, March 19, 2007

No-Doorman Living

When living in a Manhattan apartment without a doorman sucks ...

Experience #1
Receiving deliveries - Gone are the days when UPS or FedEx could leave a package on the back stoop or in the backyard. Or when I could pick it up and put it in the trunk of my car.

1) Track package using the shipper-provided tracking number and then work from home on the expected delivery date (which I tried to do yesterday).

2) Wait for the first delivery attempt and then plan to work from home during the second or third delivery attempts (which is what I'll be doing later this week or next since yesterday's expected delivery was wrong).

3) Arrange for UPS or FedEx to hold the package and go pick it up yourself (which is impossible when the package weighs ... say ... 80 pounds, you live in Manhattan, and don't have a car).

Today I left my boss's spacious two-bedroom downtown apartment (weekend cat-sitting) at 7 a.m. and arrived at my tiny uptown studio just in time to begin my 12-hour vigil. I was awaiting the delivery of my Craftsman Three-Shelf Bookcase with Wood Doors in macintosh oak stain, which claimed had been shipped and should be in New York while FedEx maintained that the shipment had not yet left Texas.

It's after 8 p.m., my bookcase has not arrived and - in this age of technology - no one can tell me where it is. So my laptop and I are packing up and headed back down to the East Village to hang out with my boss's cat for one last night.

If I had a doorman, I could say something cheesy like: "Hey, Johnny [or Donald or Ray]. I'm expecting a delivery sometime this week. Would you be a sweetheart and sign for it when it arrives?"

And he would consent with some equally corny response. And I would reply, "Thanks, babe! You're a doll!"

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