Now I was unsure as to how I was going to get them down and lug them all the way to the East Village, where my new apartment was. When I had boarded the train, a nice man had helped me put them overhead, but he was long gone. I grimaced in determination and grabbed a handle to pull them down. The new Emma Mills was independent, a go-getter. She could handle anything, least of all two suitcases.
The thought was fleeting, as the first suitcase came crashing down. I wasn't able to support the weight of it, and it slammed into the aisle with a loud thud. Well, that was one way to do it. Reminding myself that I had nothing fragile in my suitcases, I hauled down the second suitcase using the same method.
I was finally able to lug the suitcases off the train and navigated my way around the station, pulling them behind me on their little worn wheels. I caught flashes of designer luggage and imagined I looked a sight with my huge shabby suitcases and disheveled hair. It really was true that New York was full of beautiful people, even in the train station.
Shrugging off those thoughts, I maneuvered the two suitcases up the escalator and squinted as I got my first sight of the city as a New Yorker. I had visited New York once before with my parents when I was in middle school but it was a fuzzy memory. Now I was one of them; one of those people rushing around with important things to do. If I was aware that I stuck out like a sore thumb, standing on the sidewalk and gawking at the view, I didn't let it bother me. New York was for everyone. And I was everyone.
Hailing a cab was easier than I thought since they were lined up outside the station. I had been prepared to step out into the street with bravado and hail a cab with a casual wave of the hand, like I had seen Carrie Bradshaw do so many times. But my Sex in the City moment would have to wait.
"Where to?" the cabbie asked brusquely after he threw my suitcases into the trunk and slid back into the driver's seat.
"1st avenue between 8th and 9th street." I had practiced that line beforehand, not wanting to seem green and having the cabbie drive me through Brooklyn to take advantage of an unsuspecting out-of-towner.
The cab driver barely nodded as he sped away from the curb. I watched the crowded sidewalks, feeling a thrill go through me. Everyone seemed to be walking with purpose, coffee cups in hand and an air of determination. I, Emma Mills, was now a New Yorker.
My first experience as a New Yorker was trying not to throw up as the cabbie made abrupt stops and weaved his way in and out of traffic as if we were in a video game. I had to hold on to the door handle to prevent myself from being thrown against the plastic partition. By the time the cab stopped on my street, I was taking deep breaths and willing myself not to regurgitate the bagel I had eaten that morning.
The cabbie dropped my bags on the sidewalk after I had paid him and took off. I looked up at my apartment building, feeling a bit of trepidation at the dilapidated sight before me. The building looked worn and outdated, obviously not having been well maintained. Claire had emailed me pictures of the inside of the apartment and it had looked cute and cozy. I hadn't seen the crumbling brick on the outside or the steps that were in desperate need of repair.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself that the new Emma Mills took all these things in stride. With that thought, I pressed the buzzer to apartment 4C.
"Hello?" said a female voice.
"Claire? It's Emma. I made it!"
"Great! I'll buzz you up! Do you need help with your bags?"
I paused, looking down at my gigantic suitcases. I definitely needed help, but the last thing I wanted was to have my new roommate lug them upstairs.
"No, I'm fine. See you in a sec!"
The front door buzzed and I pushed it open, dragging my suitcases behind me. Looking at the stairs before me, I figured it would take more than a second to get upstairs. The apartment was a walk-up and I wasn't relishing having to drag the suitcases up three flights of stairs.
By the time I made it to the fourth floor, sweat was dripping off me as if I had just run a marathon. Since it was a warm May afternoon, the corridors of the apartment building were hot and muggy.
The door to 4C was ajar and a gorgeous girl with long blonde hair and stunning blue eyes was looking at me with her mouth open.
"Oh my God! How did you lug those things up by yourself?! You should have told me you needed help!"
She stepped out from the doorway and grabbed the handle of one of the suitcases. Her attempt to lift it was laughable. The cheap plastic sides of the suitcase strained up with her effort, but remained unmoved.
"Pull," I wheezed as I tried to catch my breath, the exertion of dragging my luggage up the stairs taking its toll. I waved towards the bottom of the suitcase and was able to sputter out, "Wheels."
Claire took my direction and started pulling the suitcase towards her and inside the apartment. After we managed to drag the suitcases inside, we both plopped down on the couch.
"Well," I said after I caught my breath. "That was an inauspicious introduction. I guess I should say nice to meet you."
Claire laughed as she sat up on the couch. "I'd give you a welcome hug, but I have to admit that I'd rather settle for a welcome handshake."
I looked down at my sweat-drenched t-shirt and jeans that were sticking to my legs like wet cement. "I don't blame you, I'm a mess."
Claire grinned as she swept her hand, indicating the apartment. "Welcome to your new home."
Even though we had only talked on the phone, Claire and I had immediately hit it off. She was a year younger than I was and seemed as laid back as I was buttoned up. I decided that I would definitely let her rub off on me.
I surveyed the apartment, pleased that it looked just like the pictures she had sent me. The living room was small but comfortably furnished with a few knickknacks and pictures. The kitchen was more of a wall with a counter and appliances lined up against it rather than a separate room. A small breakfast table separated the kitchen from the living room. I knew the bedrooms were small too, but my room came furnished so I had one less thing to worry about.
The main feature that I had loved about the apartment was the small balcony off the living room. I stood up to look out the sliding glass doors. It looked out onto 1st Avenue and I could see people hanging out on their stoops.
"I love it!" I said with enthusiasm as I turned my head to look at Claire. "I can't believe I'm finally here. I always dreamed of living in New York, but now it's actually a reality."
"I'm happy you're here. The last roommate I had snored so loud that I could hear her through the bedroom wall. The only thing that saved me was stockpiling earplugs."