How We Lost the Trailer in Queens
THIS IS A TRUE STORY …
I MOVED OUT OF NYC (ASTORIA) ON SATURDAY. My parents, who are pretty awesome, drove all the way from ND to NY with their van and trailer to help me move. Since all the seats were removed to hold my far too large assortment of shit, my dad had to fly home after helping me pack everything up. In order to bring him to the airport (a 5-15 min drive to LGA), we had to unhitch the trailer. UNHOOKING THE TRAILER WAS A BIG MISTAKE.
See, finding a parking spot in Astoria is a pretty difficult feat. Finding one where you need it is nigh impossible, and finding TWO TOGETHER directly in front of my apt was something that was a one in a million chance. We didn’t want to lose it. So while I drove to the airport, my mom copped a squat in a camping chair where the van used to be, read The Warded Man, and held the spot. We were so proud of ourselves when I returned, it was so difficult to park/align the van properly to reconnect, and it was so freaking cold that we didn’t do as thorough of a job hooking up the trailer as we should’ve. We also didn’t double check anything like the lights or the chains.
A few hours later after a good shower and some sweeping, we decided not to sleep on the cold hardwood floors in my empty apt or to leave my unattended/unlocked trailer in Astoria overnight – and we got on the road! It was only 5pm after all, and we figured we’d be able to get to a good resting point in Pennsylvania by midnight.
Our first stop was a gas station a couple blocks away on Steinway and 30th Ave in Astoria. After some idiot moves trying to use the 75cent air to fill up the trailer tires, we gassed up and left the station. Upon exiting the little driveway there was a brutal metal scrape, but we just figured it was the big dip and kept going. We COULDN’T SEE A THING out the back windows because the van was so full, so we figured the trailer was there. We drove as if it was there, took turns as if it were there, and continuously told the toll cashiers that we were a car “and a trailer!” Seriously, no one questioned this statement by us. (but they also didn’t charge us for the trailer)
THERE WERE PLENTY OF SIGNS ALONG THE WAY THAT SHOULD’VE ALERTED US. But we were concentrating so hard on figuring out how to get from Astoria to the George Washington Bridge and trying to navigate a route between the conflicting iPhone/GoogleMaps directions and the GPS directions. Those highways, intersections, bridges, and turn-offs are stressful!! We had our hands full and gave it our full concentration.
Once we got on 78 out of Jersey we sat back and relaxed. I read to my mom, we talked on the phone, and I wasted my phone’s battery checking email/Facebook. So I turned it to airplane mode.
About 9:30pm we got a call from my (very recent) ex, Tad. On my mom’s phone. He said “I got a really weird call from the police. I guess they found a trailer all slashed up at a gas station and if you don’t go get it, they’ll tow it.” We couldn’t understand what the hell he was talking about … “Uh, that’s not us!” we laughed. “Our trailer is right there behind us, not slashed up, and certainly not in Queens.”
But just to be sure, my mom pulled over to make sure, since we really couldn’t see it out of the windows or out of the rear-view mirrors. “HOLY SHIT!!! WE DON’T HAVE THE TRAILER!!!”
Yup. We were in the middle of Pennsylvania after driving for a good 3-4 hours. And we didn’t bring the damn trailer with us. We are idiots.
So I freaked out, turned my phone on, and found a TON of messages from friends, police, and even a Facebook Messg from an old co-worker at IEEE telling me they found my trailer. I called back the Sheriff who gave me the low-down and I assured her we were in the process of turning around (in Pennsylvania) and heading straight back to Astoria.
We got back to Queens around 1am (stupid traffic on the GW!). I apologized to a bemused gas station clerk who kindly allowed me to plug my dying phone in. And we hooked the trailer up … PROPERLY. We checked and double checked the links and got the hell out of dodge! Again!
The big problem was, that we still had all the same problems at 1am as we did at 5pm. We didn’t have a place to sleep, and even if we did, we didn’t want an unprotected/unattended trailer to sit outside anywhere in NY overnight. So we had no choice but to drive back out of the city. Reaching my grandma’s in Ohio was now completely out of the question. So we pulled into a rest area back in Pennsylvania (that had a big sign stating “No Toilets” – seriously). After a couple hours of Z’s, we realized it was too cold and waaaay too uncomfortable in seats that wouldn’t lie back to get any useful rest and just kept going. At least driving at 4am is better than at noon.
Our Savior: The Warded Man. Radio stations were worthless. We managed to catch a couple AM stations that gave 5 second blurbs about the flooding in ND, but nothing really more useful than I was getting on Facebook. And my iPhone couldn’t hook into the speakers on our ancient town & country van. So the ONLY thing that could keep us awake after that shitty shitty night, was reading about Arlen fighting corelings in The Warded Man. (see, my fan-girl obsession is well, placed. It literally saved my life)
Things to be grateful for:
- The police found our trailer. Sure, they slashed up the tarp & it was raining. But they were able to contact us before we got any further, and we didn’t end up at some hotel thinking WhereTF is our trailer? WhereTF did it fall off? HowTF did we not notice? HowTF do we get it back?? We knew where it was, we knew it was safe, and only had to deal with retaping it every 3-4 hours.
- I wasn’t alone. My dad is already spreading this story all around Grand Forks. He said his priest about peed himself when he told him … so I’m not looking forward to returning to small-town society. BUT at least I wasn’t alone. I’m not the only idiot in the car. My mom and I can share the blame and I don’t have to go down in history (alone) as the stupidest mover in history.
- Nothing was stolen. None of the hookups (esp the lights) were damaged. It was the most perfect of separations possible with the exception of the slashed tarp.
Yes, I am still asking myself WTF every few hours. Yes, I am an idiot. No, I will never not double/triple check my trailer hook ups again. No, I’m not home yet and yes, I plan to have NO MORE crazy mishaps. No, I will not be returning to NY with this much shit. I hope to return with about 2 suitcases and a smile. I might end up somewhere in the middle of what I left with and the 2 suitcases plan … but it will be less, regardless.
Ok, I’m open to ridicule now. Let’s hope as few people as I imagine are following this blog. But at least instead of telling the story repeatedly, I can just refer ya’ll to this blog. Sounds good, right?
