Frogger That Shit

So we started with nothing, right. I mean, think about that. Some of you may have done it, some of you may not; this was my first time doing it. Look around your apartment, or house, or nerdbasement, or jail cell, what have you. Now think about it being entirely empty. The things that will be immediately apparent (as gone) will be the furniture, of course, so if I move across the country with nothing but two pieces of luggage (mostly full of turkey paninis), you think, "Oh, he has to buy new furniture."

But what about towels? What about toothbrushes? Sheets? Pillows? Underwear? Lamps? Dishes? Soap? Underwear?

In New York City, people like me don't have cars. In New York City, people like me pay 800 dollars a month plus utilities for 1/2 of an apartment in a rundown roach building in an industrial warehouse area of Queens, right, and we will fucking like it. Like a fat kid likes quiche (he likes it, he loves cake).

So you show up to a completely empty apartment and your method of transportation is the subway. Now there's 2 games going on:

Game 1: The Opportunity Cost Game. You can carry one thing home from the store today, and therefore not another thing. So what's more important tonight? Some supplies to make dinner? A pillow to rest your head on? A toothbrush to get ready for bed with? The new Jake Gyllenhaal / Michelle Monaghan thriller out on DVD so you can see the setting of Chicago AND Michelle Monaghan's amazing tongue-in-cheek and simultaneously completely sincere hotness + a box of tissues so you can clean up afterwards? I think the answer here is pretty self-evident. I needed the jumbo tissues.

Game 2: The Farmer, Fox, and Chicken Game. Jeff and I ended up at Target, because when you just need to fill a place, you go to Target. Well, naturally, you buy too much stuff (because you need everything), but how are you going to get it home? We're talking, there's a shopping cart with a room-size rug, a shower curtain, detergent, dish sets, organizer shelves, a kitchen table, some chairs, groceries to last the week, bedding, a heavy TV stand, some iced lattes, so on. We're holding onto the sides of this cart so the stuff doesn't topple like a Jenga tower.

Well the Target's on floor 9 of this like 20-story mega-mall citadel, and as soon as we check out, the cashier is like, "You know you can't take that cart out of the store, right?"

"Lol wut?"

Okay, so we have to get all this stuff out to hail a cab.

"The exit on this level only goes to the parking lot area. You would have to call a cab and tell him to meet you at this entrance and pay for his exorbitant parking fee just to pick you up?"

"Really?"

"No, they won't do that."

So we have to go down to a lower level.

"The shopping cart escalators are out of order."

"Should I go hire stereotypical Latino day laborers from in front of Home Depot and have them come carry everything down on their backs?"

"We close in five minutes."

It was like a real-life adventure game puzzle, from like Myst. I was gonna have to find the hidden heirloom tomato in the store to throw it at her manager which would distract him from the security cameras so I could pull a female saloon dancer disguise from the clothesline undetected and seduce the swashbuckling pirate by the dock into providing some new leggings for Corporal Klinger so BJ and Hawkeye could fix the M*A*S*H's liquor still. It was fucked up, is what I'm saying.

I had to apparate with it, I had no choice. Fuck the muggles.