I have injured my back again and in the past few days have made the graceful transition from invalid to shut-in to pathetic shuffler in athletic sneakers. Words used to describe my back problem have included "endemic, like tooth decay" and "disc problem". I'm too exhausted to write about this with any vigor, but I will say that there is something frightening about being so vulnerable and alone in the city.
I posted on the Daily Heights blog to find out what kinds of goods and services I could get delivered to my door, and two people highly recommended Joe's Laundry Service. So yesterday I called for a pick-up and gave the guy my credit card number over the phone because I was low on cash and clean clothes and in no position to do anything either way. I was told that they would come to pick up my laundry and dry cleaning between 7:00pm and 9:00pm the same night. My buzzer didn't ring until just after 11:00pm. I had already been asleep - I think I must have looked stoned. I dragged 25 pounds of clothes across my doorway. Everyone at Joe's is very friendly and professional; I really want to believe that this laundry service could be the best thing that ever happened to me. "Just call the Boss tomorrow night when you're home and arrange a time with him," the driver told me. "Get some sleep," he told me, most likely because I was wearing some invalid/pajama hybrid.
Tonight, I called "Joe" at 7:30pm when I got home from the Chiropractor. "No problem," said the Boss. "The guys are out working. They'll probably be there in an hour." It's 11:15pm now.
I want my clothes back, Joe.
I swear, the whole week has been like this.
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2 comments:
That really upsets me. It kind of makes my stomach hurt. Did your clothes ever come?
My clothes did come back! At 11:30pm. And now I'm about to give Joe more clothes. Because I'm still busted up and can't even lift a bag of laundry. Do you think this will be the night Joe sells my dirty clothes on Craig's List? He's so nice on the phone.
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