Couch Surfer New York Edition - Day 1

Now, I feel like I am a very understanding patron. I am aware of my surroundings, and can understand when service may not be the best. From my many years of retail experience (my degree is in film, what the hell else am I supposed to be doing?), my brain is trained to acknowledge staffing issues, technical issues, high maintenance customer issues etc. Therefore, very rarely do I feel justified complaining about personal service I receive. After all, usually it is the person I am dealing with directly who has the least amount of control over the chaos, and is those that you never see who don't have to take the abuse. Therefore I am usually very kind to any employee in a bad situation.

I would not say that I was kind last night. I wouldn't say I was mean either. I would say I was indifferent. This is a huge deal, considering my job requires me to take verbal abuse daily from people, I make a huge effort to be overtly nice to anyone working in the service industry. So let me explain what happened....

I arrived at JFK shortly before 10pm. I had made a hotel reservation at an airport hotel, one which was having a grand opening deal. I thought "perfect", boy was I wrong. I would like to point out now, say what you want about chain hotels, but hey, you know what you are in for with them, this is the last time I book with something "new". It wasn't necessarily gross, but it definitely was not customer based. The rooms were nice, but the work ethic was definitely something to be desired. Here are the top reasons this hotel just basically sucks.

#1. The shuttle from the airport took about an hour to show up. When it did, there were over thirty people waiting for it. I swear it was like watching the survivors if the titanic trying to get into the lifeboats. People were climbing over each other for a seat on this beat up van. The trip from federal circle to the hotel took approximately six minutes, this included time for the driver to slow down while taking multiple phone calls for business opportunities the following day. Why it took an hour to show up, after multiple people, called was a mystery... although I have some suspicions.

#2. When I called from federal circle, and in a very friendly manner asked what the issue was, and warning the desk there were many people waiting, I was told it was my fault for missing the shuttle, because it had already been there twice. Now, I understand lying in the customer service industry, as in "Yes, that raspberry mocha is delicious", because I am sure to people without a predisposition to diabetes, a sugar infused coffee drink covered in whipped cream is quite a delight, not so much for me, but it is my job to sell it. However, in this case, you are basically calling me blind and stupid, and acting as if I didn't notice your beat up van coming to get us... twice. Trust me. No One there could miss that shit.

#3. After finally arriving at the hotel (it is now after 11pm), the hotel bar is blaring the TV and there are some guys at the counter. I thought, thank God, at least I can get a cold beer before bed. Especially with that sandwich board sign out front that read "Come on in! We're Open"... finally, something friendly, a greeting... or was it? When I finally got through the line and checked in to my room, I politely asked the desk clerk, what time the bar was open until. He said it closed at 10. I was very confused by this. There were people in there, a line of people in your lobby, all of whom were upset by your shuttle service, the TV is blaring, yet the bar is not open? I asked if it was a private party (which I planned on crashing if it was) to which the desk clerk said, "no it is just the workers watching the game." Really? You have a mob of tired, stressed, travelers you left stranded at the airport for an hour? Most likely because your shuttle driver probably had a drink with his coworkers before heading back, and you guys aren't even trying to be subtle? At least take down the welcoming sandwich board sign and keep the TV at a level my grandma couldn't hear, which is still pretty fucking loud by the way.

I could go on, but those are the top three reasons. I still remained calm, and did not give anyone a hard time. I will write their corporation about it. To which I will not complain about their employees, but rather their own short cuts to things. Sure, I could also point out there were a pile of dishes outside the door next to mine when I arrived, as well as when I left 24 hours later, the same pile, but I won't.

Shit, at my work, people's heads explode about the coffee stains on the concrete in the street outside the building... from them, spilling... because they move everything around constantly as if it is their own Goddamn living room. Also, they scream at me If I don't have their drink ready in less then two minutes for them. Oh what I would have paid to see a Santa Monican coffee drinker waiting for this shuttle. It just may have brought their privileged asses to tears, and I would have enjoyed watching every moment of it.

That was only thing that made me keep my composure, thinking about how lucky these minimum wage workers were to be dealing with me, instead of what we deal with everyday.

Well, that and the Indian restaurant that delivered beer as well. You bet I ordered Indian food at midnight. With two Heineken's. Best part about this situation... swear to God, the delivery guy that brought me my food.... was the shuttle driver the next day!! See what I mean about short cuts? Don't worry, JFK Plaza will be getting a letter from me... with a link to this blog.

Your family may not find this impressive

I started my day out a little rough this morning, I'm not going to lie. I know I make this life I lead seem very exciting and glamorous, but I do admit, even I, start wondering if this is the way to live at 35. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on this dream, just sometimes it can cause a slight emotional breakdown. That may have happened to me yesterday. Some interesting facts surfaced yesterday afternoon about me being an asshole, and I couldn't disagree.

I had to deal with this some way, and get off the couch. I already had plans for later that evening with some friends to watch the Betty White SNL (side note, best show ever). I knew drinking would most likely occur, so I chose to walk there. It was only five miles. Plus it gave me time to be alone with my iPod and fill my ears with songs that made me feel really bad about myself.

Looking back on it, probably not the best state of mind to drink a half a bottle of vodka on. Nonetheless I did. This in turn caused me to stage a mass exodus from the party. Not sure exactly what triggered this, oh wait. Yes I do. Sky Vodka. When I am thinking about this moment this morning, I fear that I may never be able to face these people again, which means I may have lost one of my couches in LA.

After sneaking out the backdoor, I proceeded to get into a cab with a very unfriendly driver. Well, I was in no mood for this, so I made him pull over and let me out, but not before I told him he was not a nice person, which I am sure was very effective coming from some hot mess. I then transfered to a cab with a much more caring driver. Yes, I realize now, it is pretty bad when you are seeking the comfort of a cab driver to make you feel better. I also know that I have been spending way too much money on cabs these days. Thank God Tim was able to transfer me that $9 this morning to cover that bill.

Anyway, all of these elements combined have made for a rough mother's day. So when I made my mother's day phone calls this morning, and was asked by everyone in the family if I had found a place to live yet, it was maybe a little embarrassing and awkward. To clarify, I think when my mom asked me "Are you still sleeping with Tim?" was the awkward part. Especially since the answer was yes.

The other awkward part of this conversation was my mom sharing with me she gave my grandma a bath yesterday. These are facts that I just don't need to know. I understand that it is a part of life, but I was raised an Irish Catholic, which means denial is not just a state of mind, it is a way of life. I responded by informing her she needed to start looking for places that will do that for her when she is 90, because I will not. Hopefully wherever that place is, there are couches. I know, kind of an asshole thing, especially on mother's day, but we already established that in the first paragraph here, keep up.

Plus, my mom knows I don't even have an address, I doubt she is banking on me to take care of her. Thank God she has my sisters. I don't think she would like sleeping in between Tim and I.

.

When couch surfing and sleep deprivation collide

I was sitting here this morning having coffee with one of my couch owners, listening to some adult contemporary,(John Denver's "Annie's Song"to be precise) and it occurred to me, I haven't added anything to my enthralling blog as of late.

As mentioned in my last entry, this lifestyle requires a lot of traveling, with all this traveling and no place to really be settled, sleep deprivation has been known to happen. Usually I can power through it, sheer will power and caffeine have gotten me through so far, but alas my body finally told me to fuck off. I realized this when I was getting off the plane at LAX, and the following questions went through my head:

1. Where am I?

2. Where is my car?

3. Do I need my car?

4. Where am I going now?

As soon as I answered questions 1-3, I was fine. However, when I realized the answer to question 4 was "work", I nearly lost my shit. This is exactly the point where I realized, I am not allowed to go to San Francisco for some time, I clearly make poor couch surfing decisions, unlike my couch surfing style in LA.

I went up to SF for a reunion with my high school friends, this was a big weekend getaway for them, it was a big weekend for me too because I was going to hang out with them, but not a vacation, it was just my days off. My problem though, is when everyone else is on vacation, I pretend like I am too. So drinking in the middle of the day on my day off is perfectly acceptable. For instance, after being picked up at the airport from one of my favorite couch owner's in SF, we went straight to a bar to have "a drink" while we waited for the rest of the crew to arrive. I must inform you that on Easter weekend, I broke up with Jameson.... we got back together in the 45 minutes we spent in this bar around the corner. So two drinks and two shots later, we proceeded to meet the rest of the gang who were buying wine. Night of debauchery #1.

My other problem is I feel this need to fit in everything I possibly can in a 48 hour period of time, which allows for absolutely no down time. We spent the day wandering around the entire city, and at night we went to The Great American Music Hall to see Joe Rut (if you haven't heard of him yet, you will) perform. We met up with my SF crew here, I love when my home life and California life get to collide. I think it was a successful night, as was featured by the eight text messages I woke up to from one particular "dancin'" friend who was still trying to get them to hang out at 2:30 in the morning. It was non stop, and the next day was exactly the same, except we ended at a karaoke bar giving our own concert.

I will say this though, these girls were totally worth it and I had a blast. They are all doing really well too, homeowners and careers and shit. I felt really good being able to tell them about my life, which was pretty quick, "I make lattes, don't have a place to live, but hey, I have a blog about all of it." This is why I love where I come from, there is no judgement, just excitement for my blog address.

Now usually when I go back to my homeland of San Francisco, I stay with friends, this particular trip the ladies had rented a beautiful apartment in the mission district, so I chipped in to stay with them. Here is the interesting thing though, you know those studies they do about human behaviors and adapting to different environments? Well, even though I had this gorgeous place to stay, I found myself waking up on a friends couch the last night there. It was like I needed it. The comfort of a friends couch. This may have something to do with the confusion I felt when landing in LAX. I am sure it has NOTHING to do with staying out for karaoke too late. Hey, it was therapeutic, I had this inner need to sing Joan Jett's "I Hate Myself For Loving You", it usually happens when I spend some time there.

As you can see, my couch surfing decisions made in SF, not very smart. When I returned to LA though, and somehow got through my work day, I found myself at a friends house, half way between work and home, stumbling in and going right to bed at 5pm. I woke up around 7pm wandering aimlessly in her living room, where she found me and force fed me until approximately 7:15pm. I then asked for permission to go back to bed, because apparently sleep deprivation turns you into a five year old, and slept until 5am to go back to work. I never said this was a proud lifestyle.

I returned to my other couch at approximately 4pm that day, shared my weekend and state of mind with couch owner #2, and went to take a nap. I received a phone call from couch owner #3 , and informed her I would call when I woke up from my nap to see if she wanted to grab dinner or something. When I woke up at 7:30am, I realized that I may have missed dinner. So after two and a half solid days of sleep, here I am. Back to normal, listening to adult contemporary music while drinking coffee.

Moral of the story, my couch surfing habits in San Francisco turn me into a savage. Time to stick with my couches in LA for awhile.

My apologies, Couch Surfing Involves traveling

I would like to start with a public apology to my three followers, I did not mean to ruin your weekend by not sharing yet more advice on how to live this lavish lifestyle. I was actually away for the weekend, which leads me to the best part of living this way. Weekend Getaways. They are absolutely essential when it comes to perfecting the art of couch surfing. Really the trick to this is convincing yourself you don't need a place because you are never home. It just validates you, and makes you feel like you are actually being smart.

This particular weekend I took the train to San Diego. Why the train? Well, it was a simple decision really, there was going to be an all you could drink brunch on Sunday, therefore I decided in order to get my money's worth, I should definitely take the train. I had this grandiose idea about the train as well, it seemed so European..... so you can imagine my surprise when we stopped in Anaheim. The day of an Angels game. There was nothing European about this moment. Just a bunch of sunburned wasted people piling into the snack car. Needless to say, I was in heaven, it exceeded my expectations, and I felt like I belonged.

My friend picked me up at union station downtown and was totally impressed with my suitcase for my overnighter. He knows me as the low, or rather, no maintenance person that I am, so for a moment I fooled him with my carry on for an overnighter. Before he had a chance to get too excited, I informed him I just grabbed it out of the trunk of my car, it was prepacked, because that is the way I roll. I did however add two bottles of wine to the bag, one was supposed to be enjoyed on the train, however I opted to buy the vodka sodas instead. For a couple of reasons, the most important being the "bartender" was reading the last installment of the Twilight series, so she immediately became my best friend. The other reasons had to do with running to the train station after work, and red wine not sounding very refreshing.

As the fates would have it, on this particular trip, I was reintroduced to something that I can't believe I haven't mentioned yet, the blow up mattress. Even when I had an actual place to live, I slept on a blow up mattress. An aero bed to be exact. I had every style too, from the twin to the full size make believe real bed. You know, the one that had extra layers to it, so it blew up as high as a regular bed, one would never know it was an air mattress. At least that is what I fooled myself into believing. I think anyone else who ever even walked past my room, could vouch that it was in fact an oversized blow up mattress, possibly something that could have saved Jack on the Titanic. Just saying.

As a connoisseur of air mattresses, let me just commend the folks who have worked on these throughout the years. I remember when I first started the blow up mattress life, there were no automatic pumps involved. Oh no, you had to blow that shit up yourself. To do so, there was a vacuum involved. Not just that, you had to reverse the functions of the vacuum to blow outward instead of sucking just to make your bed. Seriously, you almost had to have a degree in physics just to go to bed at night. Not to mention, after all that work, you would still wake up in the morning sunken into the mattress on the ground. What was supposed to be a comfortable, convenient, and easy way to sleep, was neither comfortable, convenient, nor easy.

The other amazing feature that has been added to the blow up mattress, is the velour covering over the plastic mattress. It just took someone about twenty years to realize air is cold. Plastic and air is even colder. Sleeping on plastic and air is the equivalent to what people must be talking about when they say "when hell freezes over". I slept with socks on my hands, and a hoodie tied so tight over my face there was only a hole for my mouth left. The velour covering was the holy grail of the blow up mattress world.

It occurred to me in this trip, that this just may be my next investment in my adventures, I mean there is nothing I enjoy more than cuddling up to my gay boys, but sometimes I think the freedom of having a whole mattress to myself may feel amazing. Plus you get that whole fetal sensation when the mattress loses a little air throughout the night, so you wake up in the morning, sunk to the ground in the middle, with the sides rolling up around you. Just the thought of it now is bringing a smile to my face.

Some simple rules to the art of Couch Surfing.

I feel I must back track a little bit. If my first entry is powerful enough to inspire others to share in this lifestyle, I think it only fair to share some tips on how to do this successfully.

#1 - Under no circumstances should you be an asshole. Seriously, in order to have a place to crash, people are going to have to want to be around you. Do not go through life treating people like shit and being so uptight that your mere presence is annoying. If you are unfamiliar of what asshole behavior is, I know of a coffee shop on the west side of Los Angeles I could recommend spending a day in people watching, you are guaranteed to see the epitome of such behaviors.

#2 - You can't be high maintenance. Seriously, this is not a lifestyle for anyone. I couldn't see my sisters doing it, they need to do their hair and make up before going to the corner store for milk. I, on the other hand would roll out of bed and go in my pajamas. This type of care free attitude about my appearance was one of many reason I earned the nickname "the son my father never had" from my sisters.

#3 Must love animals. Seriously people, housesitting/pet sitting gigs are like gifts from the heavens when you are in this space, and you have to be sincere. Don't just pretend, because those animals need to LOVE you, and those owners need to want you and ONL Y you to stay in their home.

#4 No pets of your own. See rule #1, you would have to be an asshole to want to subject a poor animal to this. Pets are for people with homes. This is what separates you from that trust fund squatter on haight street.

this last one is a little obvious, but I will say it anyway

#5 Probably not a good idea to be looking for a relationship. I don't think it is going to be too impressive to anyone when you call ahead to a friend to see if you can bring your date over to watch a movie on the couch you sleep on. Might be a deal breaker, so save that relationship hunting and pet owning for when you have a place of your own.

Ok, so those are some basic rules to start with. If you stick with those, you will at least have a good foundation, we will get into more elevated rules later. Now lets talk supplies you will need. Again, simplicity is the key. Do not lug around some huge ass suitcase place to place. A simple carry on, and perhaps a back pack to transfer items from the carry on, will suffice.

I do recommend investing in multiple toothbrushes, deodorant, and toothpaste. You will want to keep these in your bags at all times.

Do not, under any circumstances, ask to keep your toothbrush at someone's house. That is taking the "crashing for a couple nights" mentality, to a more permanent place, which could, quite frankly, scare people off from letting you stay. You need all the couches and options you can get, so be respectful and take your toiletries with you.

Deodorant, that is an obvious one, if you don't wear deodorant now, please start doing so. Everyone needs to, yes even you who is saying you don't. Seriously, just because you think you don't smell, doesn't mean this is true. Remember, you are not that trust fund baby on Haight Street.

Finally, toothpaste, I can't tell you how many times I have been burned by this one. People like some strange shit. Especially in LA, you're not going to open that medicine cabinet and find some good old fashioned crest. Oh no, you're most likely going to find some of the most disgusting organic, or nasty tasting baking soda shit. If you are saying to yourself right now "I like that stuff", you're lying. Go buy some colgate and thank me later.

This is some basic information to start with. We will get into difficult scenarios, and troubleshooting those scenarios later. For now, take some time to think about if you can deal with the foundation. Is couch surfing right for you?

Why settle for one place to live when you can have many?

I am thirty five years old, with a full time job, making decent money. My car is paid off, I am debt free, and I am a couch surfer. Why you may ask? Simply because I live in LA. This translates to, I have commitment issues. Not when it comes to relationships, restaurants, karaoke bars, or alcoholic beverages, but definitely when it comes to Los Angeles.

I recently found myself in a predicament when my former roommates found a dream house they couldn't pass up, and disbanded our dysfunctional family. I always said the only thing keeping me in this pit of despair known as L.A. was the fact that I LOVED our place. It really was ideal for guests, alone time, and basically living as a recluse in Los Angeles. It was heaven. However, I can understand when you find the perfect place, the need to jump at it, so I was fairly understanding of the situation.

Then I saw the house. I am not positive, but I am pretty sure it was the basis for Leatherface's house in Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Fine, there is some charm to it, but honestly, if I have to do an eight point turn to get out of your driveway, it's not an ideal place to visit, much less live. Hey, to each their own though, and I am sure those two will have that place looking like a palatial palace in no time. It will be like the stars and creators of every gay make over show got together for a special episode of "Extreme Makeover Home Edition". Minus the tears, plus rock band and a kegerator.

Lucky for me though, I have been taken in like a modern day Luke Brower, (for those of you who don't get this reference, that was the name of the homeless character Leonardo DiCaprio played on "Growing Pains". I don't know why that is the first reference that came to mind, since he was like eight, but it was). According to the USPS and more importantly, Costco, where I lay my head at night is at the Descanso Towers. For the most part this is true, but let's just call it what it is, parking around here is a bitch, maybe no eight point turns, but it can take awhile to find something anytime after four. Combine this fact with my pure laziness, and you get a suitcase in my trunk ready to crash at whomever house I end up having dinner at that night.

I know what you're thinking, but it is not a ho bag people. I just really hate looking for parking that much. Yep, so much that I pack a carry on whenever I leave the house. Now that I have planted this idea in your head, don't be ashamed when you start doing it.

So this is where I am at now. Starting off my new couch surfing venture in LA. In the past ten days, I have stayed in three different places, in three different cities. I have spooned two different gay men, and I have bought numerous concert tickets and flights with money that would have otherwise gone towards rent or possibly a security deposit, but who has time to find a place to live with all this adventure happening? And why would I just settle for one place when I can have many? Let the adventures begin!