End of the Housing Woes: Part II

Read Part I here.

Creak-creak, creak-creak, creak-creak, the steps of the wooden stairs went as two people ascended: me in front followed by Jack. When we finally reached the top I recognised everything from the initial viewing. First there was an alcove with two chairs and a small round table opposite a wooden cabinet. From there the studio extended into a large open space with wooden floors and several doors. One of these lead to a small, but fully equipped kitchen with a microwave, fridge and a stove. All utensils were there as well: cutlery, plates, pans. Opening an other door revealed a bathroom that actually had a bath in it besides a toilet and sink.

The main space of the apartment was fully furnished with a bed, tables, cabinets and also a desk, chairs, and a bookcase. There was a small TV with satellite access. Furthermore, the studio had as many as four large closets for storing stuff: plenty of space for a guy with only a suitcase and backpack.

I glanced at the large wooden bed with a mattress nearly a meter thick.
“I need to buy something for that,” I concluded.
“You’ll need some sheets”, Jack confirmed. “Wait, Laura knows where to get that. Lauraaaaa,” he shouted downstairs. She came up, stood besides him and stared intently at the bed while stroking her chin.
“Yes, you’ll probably need a mattress pad too. I think it’s a standard size bed, right?”, she looked at Jack for confirmation.
“I think so too,” he uttered. “They won’t have sheets anywhere close though. Look, we have to do some shopping in the afternoon. If you want we can take you with us, so you can buy anything you need”, he offered.
“Okay, I have a meeting in the afternoon. So, perhaps thereafter, but: only if it’s no problem. I don’t want to be any trouble to you”, I replied.
He smiled.
“No problem at all, we have to do some shopping anyway, so we’d be happy to take you with us.”
We walked down the stairs. Laura extended her hand as we reached the living room: she was holding something.
“Here is the key. Perhaps you should try it, since the door is a bit stiff.”

After some fumbling around with the key and getting the hang of how to get the door to actually open: using some force, I went out of the house accompanied by Jack. Laura was staying briefly to sort out some stacks of mail while he brought me back to CMU in their white car.

I called late in the afternoon, after my meeting, to set-up a time to go shop.
“Alright, Jack has to take care of something else, so only the two of us would be going there, is that okay?” Laura asked.
“Yes, no problem.” I was happy they were even willing to help me with this.
“I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes in front of the University.”
“Great.”
“Oh yes, before I forget to mention: we have yet a third car. I’ll pick you up in that one: so, be on the look out for a black Mazda.”

Not long thereafter I was sitting in the front passenger seat headed towards the Waterfront: a shopping area just outside of Pittsburgh, across one of the bridges, situated in the Homestead borough.
“So, you like biking,” she inquired.
“Well … yes, but it’s a lot harder here then back in the Netherlands.”
“Indeed, it must be, with the hills here and all,” she replied while taking a turn. “We don’t bike here often, but we always bike when we go to France.”
“Cool, recreational cycling is nice, but given the roads and hills here in Pittsburgh: I can understand why you do not commute by bike.”
We approached the Waterfront: a plethora of tall buildings surrounded by huge parking lots, and a smaller core with restaurants and shops: paradise for girls that want to shop.

Laura first took me to CostCo: a wholesale shop somewhat similar to the Makro in Holland. However, of course: this is America, thus: everything is an order of magnitude larger. We approached the entrance and picked a cart.
“It’s a really big place, they have lots of stuff, not only appliances, but also good quality food items in large packagings,” Laura said. She leaned in and whispered into my ear: “and pay attention: consequently many of the people that shop here,” she paused, “are really `large’ too.”

I bought myself an electric kettle after which we went to several other shops: the Target, like the Dutch V&D, and finally Bed, Bath and Beyond which is, well: what the name says. After three hours the back of the car was stuffed. It would have taken me ages to get and move all these things myself. I sighed a breath of relief.

Finally, Laura dropped me off at what was going to be the place I’d be living for a while. I climbed up the stairs to the front porch, put the key in the front door lock, twisted it and give it a push with my shoulder: open sesame. I went upstairs to sort out the bags and put some cold water in the kettle I bought. I was still feeling ill, but I felt a lot better than a day ago: at least now I had some certainty. The kettle clicked as steam escaped from it. I gently poured some water in a cup with a bag of Earl Grey tea. Finally, this hectic day had come to an end. I stood near the window, sipping my tea as I overlooked my new neighbourhood: Squirrel Hill.

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