(Un)faithful

I had plans to cheat this morning. To get on my bike and ride one neighborhood further inland to (shhhh) see another apartment. I am admittedly content in my parlor level nest on a beautifully leafy brownstone street but, in a city of endless options, it's hard not to have a wandering eye. A friend tempted me with a place opening up in her building on Sterling Place, an adorable junior 1 bedroom that'd certainly make me more liquid each month. I figured a peak wouldn't hurt. Just because I'd go see it didn't mean I'd necessarily consummate the infidelity.

It seems I won't even get a peak for I've woken up this morning to find an apartment void of keys. The initial search was calm and collected, methodical with easy breathing. By the third round I'd lost it. The contents of my purse lay strewn across an unmade bed, the turned out pockets of my jeans revealed only string and business cards. I retraced the night, which had ended at Hotel Delmano with a glass of Lambrusco and a deadly delicious Devil's Garden. I'd come home all warm in the belly, excited for a boozy slumber. And it would seem that I was so excited that I forgot to remove the keys from my apartment door. Around 4am I heard a rustling of the lock, which I thought was a dream. Unfortunately, it was not. I sit here now, sans keys, a bit ruffled that an unknown person was at my door and now has the keys to my world.

I'll assuage worry by hurrying up and saying that all is under control. It's very likely that a neighbor saw my sad keys dangling from the door and decided to confiscate them until the morning. The late hour would explain why they didn't knock or leave a note, the fact that it's Sunday would explain why they have not returned them yet. There is, of course, the possibility that a menacing stranger saw them through the glass on the stoop, was somehow able to make it through 2 front doors and has stolen them. I prefer to believe the former but I am prepared for the latter. I've posted a note on the front door and will begin my door to door campaign upon finishing this post. If no one has them, I'll call a locksmith and, gulp, replace everyones keys.

I find it comical, however, that I am stuck here, unable to "explore my other options." At first the inability to "be with" the other apartment made me want to see him more. But as I sit in this space, my space, I'm reminded of its charm. I am safe indoors as the key to the deadbolt was not on the missing ring. I have coffee, sweets, a drawer of takeout menus and large enough windows to let the outside in. Ironically, Jonathan Schwartz' Sunday Show croons this tune from the kitchen...



I might miss the screening of Night Catches Us at the New Directors New Films festival tonight, yes. But I am blessed and satisfied with what I have. My cheating streak? Long gone.