In 2007, I've been to Buffalo 3 times. The first encounter came in February with what turned out to be one of my worst travel experiences ever. The second came in March and was the beginning of a new revelation for what lies ahead. The third time is today, but it would not have been possible if the fabulous Natasha hadn't so graciously swapped barista shifts. What am I doing in Buffalo this time, you ask. Am I flying somewhere again? Am I feeding my craving for buffalo wings? Has my desire for all things USA taken over? The answer to these three questions are as follows:
It turns out that I'm here for two seemingly unconnected reasons: Shipping and Sibling. Let me elaborate.
When I was in Texas last month, I stayed with my friend Brian, whose housemates Matt and Enoch are people I would also consider friends. Anyways, on the day I was to leave, Brian and I, along with an assorted group of other friends were supposed to grab lunch. Unfortunately, something came up at Bri's work that did not allow for the above said rendezvous to happen as planned. In fact, Bri had to leave for work before I was supposed to leave the house for lunch, so being the great guy he is, he left his house keys with me so I could lock up. The only request he had was for me to leave the keys behind with someone so he could get them back.
Fast forward several hours. I'm at the airport and have checked in my luggage and began the process of emptying out my pockets for loose change and all things metal. As I'm fumbling around, my fingers begin dancing around this object that feels foreign to me. As my Sherlock Holmes skills kick in to high gear, it takes but a moment for me to deduce that I am a total and utter poo poo head. As I pull out this foreign object, it dawns on me that I had failed to comply with Bri's one and only request to leave his house keys behind. Immediately, the floodgates of self-deprecation in the form of choice 4 letter explicatives begin to flow inside my mind. Unfortunately, I had no access to the internet so as to send an email, nor did I have access to a phone to call Bri and apologize profusely. So I had to carry all my shame on board with me that began to fester and grow with each passing moment. It wasn't until the next day that I was able to send out the email informing Brian of my stupid rookie move. I told him that I was really sorry for not leaving the keys behind and I would put the keys in the mail as soon as possible. His reply?
"It's all good."
What a gracious guy this Bri.
Now, fast forward again 10 days. I wake up, check my email, and find a message from Brian with the word 'Keys' in the subject line. Immediately, my heart skips a beat as I pull open my desk drawer and see Bri's keys staring right back at me, as if to say 'I don't belong to you!! Send me home, Sucka!!' In the email, Brian asks when I sent the keys back because he was hoping to get them back by Wednesday.
What should I do? Should I make up a story? Should I fess up? After a couple minutes of crying in the fetal position, I decided that option 2 should be the course of action I should take, along with whatever consequences that are to follow. After I send an email back telling Bri that I still had the keys, I start looking around online to see what my options are for sending the keys back via next day shipping. Do you know how much it costs to ship something next day from Hamilton to Austin?
UPS - $35
FedEx - $53
Canada Post - $50
Upon this discovery, I begin to cry again in the fetal position. But this time around, I started rocking back and forth while repeating the sentence 'Baby going to sing night night soon mommy'.
Later that night, I get a call from my younger brother Dennis with the news that he's going to be in Buffalo on Monday night for a business meeting Tuesday. I tell him that I'd like to see him, as well as tell him about my boneheaded move. Part way though the conversation he says 'I can ship it for you next day via DHL for $7.'
'7 DOLLARS?!?!?!?!?!' I exclaim ecstatically.
'Yea. You want me to do it?'
(In my most professional voice) 'HELL YEA,BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!'
Unfortunately, my brother couldn't create a shipping label that had the origin from within Canada. So he created one where the origin was Buffalo, which leads me back to one of the reasons why I'm here in New York.
Up next: My day in Buffalo.