For the record, I am not a morning person. I never have been, I never will be. So when a memo went around work on Friday that we had a 9:15 meeting on Monday morning (about the time I usually arrive) with an added note of, “Don’t be Late!!!”, I gave myself a million reminders to make sure I got there on time. I emailed myself, wrote myself a post-it note, and even signed up for a text messaging reminder for Sunday night. “Get into work at 9am. You are awesome!”, the reminder said (it’s always nice to get compliments).
So I wake up on time, get ready, and arrive at the subway with plenty of time to spare . . . and then I realize that I forgot my wallet (with my money and metrocard) in my apartment. Oh, crap, I have no way of getting to the office. Doing the quick math in my head, I’m about a 15 minute round-trip walk to my apartment, plus the subway ride . . . oh no I can’t make it back. I have to figure out a way to get to work another way. Onto Plan B.
Plan B: I scrounge through my pockets and look for loose change, maybe I have $2 on me? I reach in and the first thing I pull out is a dollar bill. Jackpot, this will be easy. So I count up all of my loose change and it comes to . . . $1.80 . . . oh, so close, yet so far. I’m now picturing the dollar I gave out of my pocket to a guy playing guitar on the subway on Saturday night. Lesson: never help people.
Plan C: Ask the woman at the booth to buzz me through the handicap entrance. Our conversation went something like this:
Her (mostly indecipherable through that weird microphone thing): Sorry, you need a police officer to get through.
Me: What? Why do I need a police officer? What does that have to do with anything? Isn’t there just a button you push?
Her: Yes, I have a button, but we can’t open the gate without an officer. It’s our policy.
Me (franticly looking around for a police officer and finding no one): Please???
Plan D: Stand in front of the entrance to the station and ask people for a quarter. Time is ticking away at this point and I am getting pretty desperate. First, I take off my fingerless gloves, because I’m trying to downplay the “homelessness” of my look. Even with time ticking down, I can’t bring myself to ask a large crowd of people for a quarter (which, is really how you panhandle). I don’t know why. I am hit with a sudden influx of self-pride and not wanting to take money from someone worse-off than me (which is completely ridiculous considering it’s only a freakin quarter). But anyway, I totally freeze. I sheepishly ask exactly two people for change, and they just keep walking. Ok, moving on.
Plan E: I notice a breakfast cart on the corner. Bingo, this guy must have tons of change from the constant transactions, plus he’s always in the same location so I can pay him back tomorrow. I open with my pathetic, “Umm, this might sound strange, but can I borrow a quarter and pay you back tomorrow ?” Words cannot describe how much I feel like a loser right now. Immediately, he replies, “Sure, sure, don’t worry about it”, and gives me $.50 (I tried to explain that I only needed a quarter, but he wouldn’t take it back, and time is really against me at this point, so I just take it. Cha-ching.)
I run down to the subway, buy a metrocard, run and just make a departing train, run from the subway to my building, take the elevator up, and step inside the office just as the clock strikes 9:15am. I made it!
Then I find out the meeting was cancelled. Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?
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