MAKING PROGRESS

Huge leaps forward today on the banking and food situations.

Appointment at bank went exceedingly well given that I have no job and no proof of address. In fact the hardest part of the whole interview was trying to remain upright in a chair, as I’ve spent the last few furniture-less weeks crouching over my laptop in a foetal position on a variety of floors and beds. Not to mention the doubtless-laptop-induced ever decreasing near-vision eyesight. No idea therefore whose name I actually signed on the forms.

Whilst waiting for my appointment, no less than seven members of staff approached me with a ‘Can I help you with anything?’ Anything? Really ANYTHING?
I could make a list …..
Otherwise just lend me your tannoy and I will explain to the whole bank in one go that I am ‘WAITING FOR AN APPOINTMENT’.
I recall from previous USA visits this total obsession with the ‘offering to help thing’. That is until you actually WANT some help, then it’s a whole different movie channel.
During the interview was a little thrown by some of the questions.
‘Are you social correct?’
Am I what? (Do I give up my seat on the metro to elderly people? Do I tip correctly?)
I obviously looked confused because she just laughed and said ‘Oh that’s ok then’.
What is? I still don’t know if I am, or what indeed I am IF I am.
‘Would you like blue or yellow cheques’?
I’ve never been one to make hasty decisions, especially not yet knowing the social ‘correctness’ of the colour of your cheques around here, so I paused for rather too long.
‘I’ll give you blue ones’.
And for all I know, that simple statement might have blown my whole social standing in this city.
As I left she handed me a huge folder with ‘Thank you’ written all over it.
‘This just says thank you for banking with us’.

So I staggered under weight of thank-you folder back out into the humidity with the promise of an account within a week and the cries of ‘ice-cold water one dollar, if it ain’t ice-cold you get your dollar back’ all around me. I won’t even START on that….

Then my eyes fell upon ‘Whole Foods Market’.
On entering this store, nay palace, nay kingdom, I felt like I’d died and gone to the Pat Metheny Band. Now, previously on ER, I’d considered Soho’s ‘Fresh and Wild’ to be a rather groovesome little place. But this mama is something else entirely. Just imagine a Sainsbury’s superstore-sized whole foods/organic shop, with aisles and aisles of ‘wheat free’ produce, aisles of vegetables I’ve never set eyes on before, aisles of every possible combination of faddy diets and around eight alternatives to Ecover. What an awesome find.

So obviously I bought everything. And then my credit card didn’t work. In fact none of my UK credit cards worked. And I was that person counting out their small change to pay a 70 dollar bill with 50 people queuing behind me. So, reckless now, with the promise of a bank account, I spent my very last dollar in the kingdom of whole food.
Back outside again. Have I mentioned the heat here yet? With not one dollar to my name I realize I have broken one of the essential rules of food shopping – ‘never eat more than you can carry’.

I do live within walking distance of the wonder that is Whole Foods Market , but not whilst carrying practically my own bodyweight in organic cultivation. I know that because I was forced to do it. I dumped the ‘thank you’ folder. Thank you anyway lovely bank.

Executive summary:  Scored bank account and food
Live music: Kaki King - Joe's Pub NY