Week 11

Anyone who's transferred within a corporation is likely to understand that some of the first people you will meet, aside from supervisors, will be the geeks- the IT guys.  That's Brian, Corey, and Scott- I've spent a lot of time with these three since my first day at work in New York (yesterday.)  Corey, a tall, slender, professional looking fellow about my age, has been the go-to guy for network and most software bugs. 

Brian, the programmer, was a more quiet guy, but you could tell by the way his trembling fingers hovered over the keyboard that he's the type of guy who could write a program to simulate what who would would win if an army of Smurfs attacked a fire-breathing Oompa Loompa settlement in Iceland with boomerangs, and he could do it just for the fun of it.  Brian was the guy that fixed Corey's mistakes, but that was only necessary on one program.

The guy who directed Corey and Brian, Scott, didn't seem any older than they, but he had the big office with a nice desk.  He was a nice guy as well, but seemed to be celebrating St. Paddy's day one day too early- sitting at his station with a light green shirt, green mug, and a lava lamp on in front of him sending emerald green globs of goo up and down.

I met all three of the IT guys yesterday, as I was escorted from office to office by Linda, the engineering clerk and self-proclaimed 'mother hen' of the department-  I'm happy to be one of her many hatchlings, as she's ordering me a new chair along with a number of other goodies that the office I'm taking over could really use.  Linda is super-friendly and brimming with energy.  Judging by her perky, free-spirited attitude, and her nose stud, I can picture her fitting in really well at Woodstock in '69.  She has a pretty cool spoon collection hanging on a bulletin board in her office- many in the office have contributed to the display.

along the edge of the common area, at the heart of the building, lies the black oasis.  The elixer of early morning sanity pours forth from insulated tumblers kept full of hot coffee by none other than Sharon, also known as the coffee princess.  Sharon is lean and in her middle years, yet seems perpetually young- full of spunk, confident, and always with hearty laugh at her disposal.  She collects the dollar a week for the coffee fund, brews it masterfully, and keeps a small pot in her office for a special early afternoon brewing using more exotic beans, freshly ground rather than the standard fare for the mid morning communion. 

Remember in the Bible where Jesus turned water into wine and the guests asked why the host saved the best wine for last?  Well I guess people want to taste the good stuff before they get too drunk to enjoy it.  The opposite is true when it comes to coffee.   We might drink muddy water and not know the difference first thing in the morning if it has enough caffeine.  By the afternoon, though, our brains are humming right along and ready to slurp on a more complex and intriguing roast, blend, or variety.

So far, I haven't met a single person I don't like, and the office is probably the most laid-back I've ever worked in.  That can be good and bad- the hours are more flexible, but having people pop into my office and start shooting the breeze at random, on company time, can be a distraction as well- I'm used to a pretty hard-core Get-er'-done, productivity is everything mentality. . . . and we aren't getting paid to visit- I'd rather get a bonus for profitability than have to work overtime because everyone else is slacking.

It seems like one of the most common ways to welcome a newcomer there, is to talk about good places to eat in the area.  In just two days I've heard of a lot of restaurants.  The thing is, I don't eat out that much.  Even with my wife yet to join me in NY, I've been making my own suppers.  I was amazed to see how low prices are for fresh produce here!  I'm taking advantage of the fact and making super salads for dinner- tonight's was composed of the following: two kinds of lettuce, carrots, sweet peppers, broccoli, cauliflower, grape tomatoes, sesame sticks, almonds, avocado, a boiled egg, and greek dressing.  Yum!

Week 10B

My first night in this old house in NY was a little spooky.  It was getting cold in here around midnight when I was ready for some shut-eye.  I hunted down a thermostat and cranked it up to 70.  Every room has pipes coming up out of the floor and entering a wood and wicker box enclosing a radiator.  After I cranked up the heat and turned out the lights, those little guys came to life.  It sounded like giant anacondas were climbing around inside the walls and banging steel pipes together.

I could hear the one in the kitchen hissing and popping so loudly that I began to wonder if I had done something that would end up burning this old mansion to the ground.  Each room's unit seemed to wake up and start making noise until it had warmed up, then another unit would begin to sizzle and knock.  I'm guessing it was the expansion of the heated pipes that caused the wood floors to start snapping and creaking, or else this place is haunted by the ghosts of medieval woodpeckers.  Once everything had warmed up, the noise subsided, and now it's quite cozy in here!

This morning I was met by Kristen, the realtor.  She's an interesting one.  She may be the first realtor I've ever met who you might be able to recognize via the glamour shots they paste all over the internet and their business cards.  I guess that's a good thing.  She's also been quite assertive when it comes to getting us information on the region and researching for potential homes to rent, another plus.  On the downside,  her assuming, can-do, go-gettum, gitter-dunn attitude reminds me more of a tiger shark's than a social worker's.

Rather than ask, she told me she was picking me up at 9:45 this morning to look at a property- and she did.  We went to one apartment complex, less than a mile down the road, and that's where we met Bob- I'm not sure if he's the owner, the maintenance man, or both.  He was an odd character, his gray head sort of rolled in circles as he shook my hand, his eyes rolling the opposite direction and never focusing on my own.  He had two lower rows of teeth in the front, and a massive belly that somehow managed to hold up his trousers rather than flowing over them.  He smelled funny.

Bob showed us three different units and jabbered on about how the rent for one of them was going to depend on whether he decided to install large vanity mirrors or not.  The floor plans were nice and spacious, but I wasn't all that impressed.  Kristen and I hit the road again and did a drive-by of another place that she plans to show me tomorrow when it's empty, then she took me all around town, talking as if she were the only realtor in the world and I had pledged my undying loyalty to her patronization.

She's picking me up at 1:00 tomorrow.

Week 10

Its been a long week already.  On Wednesday morning, after downing two tasty waffles doctored with love by my wonderful wife (my farewell breakfast by special request), I hopped into my loaded pickup and began the long drive north.  Arriving at the Garfield Hotel in Cincinnati for the night, I felt that counting the receptionist as one of my new names for the week would be out of line, I think I should consider name tags to be an instant dis-qualifier.

They did give me free upgrade to a jacuzzi suite- the place was bigger than the apartment in which I live.  It was a lot of hotel room for the money as well, boasting a full kitchen with fridge, dishwasher, & stove; living room,  balcony, large bedroom with a hot-tub and huge flatscreen, and a separate full bath.  I really didn't need all that.  Having all of that extra space to myself, with my wife back home in Arkansas praying that one of the four tornadoes that touched down that evening wouldn't be what saved her from the killer hailstorm that struck the region, felt sort of weird.

The great attitude and eagerness to please displayed by the people that work there are almost enough to make me want to go back.  Almost.  The building is really old, the elevators are super-slow, parking is a pain, and- judging by the smell of it- my gi-normous unit had been smoked in for years despite the sign threatening puff-daddies with a $200 fine.

This morning I hit the road again, finally making it to Elmira, NY around 6:30 this evening (Eastern time).  I wasn't sure what to expect in regard to the "extended stay" booked by my company.  Turns out it's a really nice (and big) old house, the 2nd floor of which has been converted into two 1-bedroom apartments.  The kitchen consists of a sink, microwave and a mini-fridge.  It was on my tour of the house that I met my acquaintance of the week- my neighbor staying in the other upstairs apartment, Jeff.

Jeff was a friendly fellow, an engineer who works for a helicopter company.  After returning from a trip to the local grocery store to attain a few staples for the week, I took Jeff up on his offer, joining him for a brewsky.  Little did I know what a treat that would be- my neighbor brews his own, and I have to say he's pretty darn good at it!

We were sitting on the back porch, talking about work and life in this part of the world, when his wife got back from rugby practice (yes, I said rugby practice.)  That's when I met Kate-  a wonderfully friendly architect, who didn't seem the least bit shocked to see her husband sipping suds out back with a total stranger.  She's working on drawing up this old house's original plans so that the owners can restore it to it's original floorplan.  Originally designed by a renowned architect from this area, that has some historic significance.

Seeing as I'm in a new state now, I may meet more new people this week to write about, it can't hurt to exceed my quota!

Week 9, Fast Start

Having lived in both Dallas and Little Rock, I had yet to visit The Flying Saucer in either town.  Since I'll be moving to upstate New York in a week, my wife and I met my sister and some of her friends at the great draught emporium last night, forming the team "Trivalocity," to compete on trivia night. 

It was there that I met Mark and Molly,  a really fun couple originally from Indiana.  Hats off to Notre Dame- Mark was our Encyclopedia Brittannica when it came to history.  Molly served as our scribe for the night.  She's a sweet and energetic ICU nurse who takes it gracefully when someone's first reaction to her name is "Oh! I had a dog named Molly!"

Our group fared well in the first two rounds of trivia, but bombed the difficult final round.

Moving is stressful- especially when moving a long, long way from friends and family.  All of the farewell get-togethers organized by those we love leading up to our departure are much appreciated, but sad in a way.  They always lead me to wonder why we didn't initiate things like that more often.  When I meet a couple like Mark and Molly, it's painful to think that the first time we see them is likely the last time as well.

When we live in a destination town, we don't tend to be as enthusiastic about the local attractions as those who fly in from all over the world to relish them.  It's so easy to take things for granted when you feel like you have easy access to them.  That doesn't just apply to places, but friends. . . . even our spouses?  Ouch.

As a side-note, I have a recommendation for anyone who's a fan of dark suds- a new favorite I tried last night at the Saucer:  Young's Double Chocolate Stout  chocolatey, not too sweet, and a beautiful finish with no bite. 

Week 8

Week 8 went without a hitch. After taking half of the day off on Friday I butchered my full beard, turning transforming it into mutton chops to fit the part of my alter ego for the night- Elijah Entwhistle the travelling preacher. We then drove all the way to Dallas for a good friend's annual murder mystery dinner extravaganza! Almost every year a few people show up who I haven't met. This time around I was privileged to meet Jack and Sherry (sp?) a soon-to-be-wed couple. Jack was a tall, mellow character- his other half, a bubbly young lady, seemed to compliment him well.

A third person met that night was Jacob. I believe he was the youngest of our cast, and had one of the best costumes of the wild-west-themed night. In jeans, boots, a wide-brimmed hat, and a white apron he looked like he must have fallen off of a passing chuck wagon! There were a couple of other cool cats who's names escaped me but, considering the fact that everyone had two names that night, I think three for the week is good enough!

In case anyone was wondering- the mutton chops were promptly removed following the party!

Week #7

It was a slow week as far meeting folk, and sort of a sad weekend- my last in Arkansas for a while.  I won't be driving to NY until the 10th of March, but the next two weekends will be spent back in Texas visiting family and friends. 

Today we went down to the H&R block and filed for our tax return.  That's where we met Gladys.  She was a considerably well-rounded lady, with a kind smile, and almost a sickeningly sweet demeanor.  If she hadn't been so consistently nice, patient, and genuinely interested, it would have come across as quite staged- but by the time we were done, I was convinced that she is genuinely wonderful.  We need more people like that.

Tonight a friend of mine arranged a "going away" party for us.  It was really nice of him, and we had friends show up from different circles who'd never even met!  We all gathered at a restaurant for Mexican food, and then migrated over to a small pub called Lucky's that I'd never been to before.  It was a pretty clean little place, small, with one pool table.  A live band was playing- and they were talented.  The volume, however, seemed more suited for a place about 8 times the size of that room.

There was a guy in his mid-fifties, wearing a Razorback jacket, playing pool.  He had graying hair, scruffy cheeks, a baggy 2nd chin, and apparently too much to drink.  The only reason I know his name is because it was etched into his western-style leather belt.  I can't count him as an official acquaintance since I never introduced myself- but didn't really care to.  He was behaving in a way that hopefully would embarrass his children, if he has any-  using his pool cue as an anatomical prop for immature antics. 

The older I get, the more clear it becomes that some people never mature.  I think I must have grown up assuming that everyone eventually becomes as mild-mannered, dignified and self controlled as my parents- I just assumed it was a natural process.  Boy, was I wrong.

Week #6- Just in the nick of time

If you ever want to gain some quick and easy friends, just go shopping for a car.  For some time I've been itching to regain my Man-Card by trading in my Mercury Cougar for a pickup.  Now that we're getting ready to move to a cold and icy state, and may buy a house there, a truck seemed like a worthwhile investment.

On my way down Maumelle Boulevard I ducked into a local used car dealership just to see what they had in stock.  Not much in my price range, it turned out, but I did get to meet Al- a stately middle-aged African American car salesman, and his boss, Carl.  Carl seemed a bit more snake-ish than Al, and for some reason he didn't have any molars- usually the front teeth go first here in Arkansas, go figure.

I managed to escape from their seasoned salesmen spells, and continued on to Lander's Dodge/Chrysler/Jeep  in Benton where, according to Autotrader.com, there was a nice 4WD Tacoma for sale.  When I got there I was greeted by Russ, a portly, mustached salesman who told me that what I came to see was sold yesterday-  but he was chock full of alternative options.  He must have had a good feel for what I wanted, I mean, I didn't even know I wanted it.  He led me right to the goldish-tan Dodge 1500 Crew Cab that I would later name D-Biscuit (in case that didn't register, it's a Dodge, it's like riding lots and lots of horses at once, it's a play on Seabiscuit, and yes- I've always named my vehicles.)

I took the truck on a test run, and then parked it up next to the office building where we went to wheel and deal.  Russ stepped out of the deliberation nook to pretend he was price haggling with his manager.  While he was out, I saw an interesting stack of papers on the desk in front of me- picking it up, it was a list of their inventory with exactly the amount they'd paid for each vehicle printed next to their asking price.  I scanned the list for the truck I was interested in and struck gold!

Russ re-entered the room with his manager and handed me a piece of paper with their offer-  they did make a generous offer for my trade, about $500 over the estimated Bluebook price, but hadn't backed off the original asking price that I had read on the inventory list.  I countered.  Russ's boss whined at me, "Come on man, won't you help us out a little?"

I turned to him with a smirk, "I already am, I read the sheet you guys left out here on the desk."

Both of the gentlemen flushed bright red.  The boss man said in a defeated tone, "Oh!" and quickly ducked out of the room- I'd offered them a fair price and everyone new it.  They didn't try to haggle any more when they learned I knew their profit margin.

Next I met Jim, the finance man.  All I had to do was sign a few things since I insisted on paying for the vehicle in full.  It's not as much fun driving a car that belongs to a bank.  The problem was, I'd neglected to bring a check connected to the account that I wished to pay from.  They trustingly handed me the keys to the truck and I ran home to get my checkbook.

Back at the house, that checkbook was in a small fireproof lock-box,  and I ransacked the room looking for its key.  The only place I could imagine it being was attached to the key of my Cougar, which Russ had removed from my keychain while I was talking to Jim.  I put the little safe in the truck and drove all the way back to Benton.  They didn't have my key.

Russ went and collected key chains from his co-workers and futilely searched for one that might work.  I asked them to get Jim to prepare the paperwork for financing it- so I could drive the truck home and just pay it off with the first statement.  A couple of places I hadn't looked for the key came to mind and I was finally able to get in contact with my wife via her defunct telephone.  Miracle of miracles!  She found my not-for-daily-use key ring and delivered it to me at the dealership.

It wasn't an ordinary car-buying experience, as it only took an hour to find what I wanted but then nearly three more to get everything else hammered out.  In any case, I have a very *grunting like Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor" manly pickup, and exceeded my newfound acquaintence quota for the week with Al, Carl, Russ, and Jim!