After the debacle at Terminal 5 in Heathrow Airport it was nice to get through JFK Airport in New York without any dramas. The only hold up was most of us needed to have our fingerprints and photo taken. It’s nice to put a face to a database.
Travelling on a budget I headed to the shuttle desk rather than grabbing a stretch limo as I have done in the past for the ride into Manhattan.
While waiting for the shuttle to arrive I bought a gingerbread latte at Starbucks. Yes I know it’s gay and I only tell you as a warning not to get one, they suck.
Eventually the shuttle arrived and we were off…well we were off to the next terminal to pick up some more passengers and then we were off…to the next terminal..
Finally we we on our way and we went over the Queensboro Bridge which was interesting and my first time.
I was trying to figure out if I was going to be first or last on the drop offs. I was going to East 14th Street in Midtown to the Union Square Inn.
In Singapore I was the last to be dropped off and it had taken a couple of hours. I wasn’t keen on doing that again, so I was lobbying the driver to drop me first, which really impressed everyone else hahahaha
Amazingly, I was second and hustled into the small frontage “boutique hotel”. I’m fairly certain at sometime in it’s history this hotel would have been renting rooms by the hour.
I lugged my giant new suitcase up the steps and into the lobby. I gave the gal behind the counter my name and card. she told me my room was on the 5th floor and that there were no elevators. Great! The investment in this giant new suitcase was really beginning to pay off.
The next thing really floored me. She handed me an envelope addressed to me! I flipped it over to see who had sent it . The senders address was in New Zealand and I’m certain I would never give anyone in NZ my address. But I was confused how did this person know I was staying at this hotel in New York, hardly anyone knew.
I shoved the letter in my heavy winter coat pocket and grabbed my laptop and my giant new suitcase and struggled up to the 5th floor. Luckily Kris had made me walk so much over the last few months and luckily most buildings in eastern europe have no elevators so staggering up stairs is something I’m getting pretty ok with. but I tell you the giant new suitcase did make it tough and I had to buy some oxygen halfway up or was that cocaine?
Finally found the room and was amazed at how small it was. Smaller even than the one I stayed in when I was in Tokyo.
The letter was at the front of my mind so I opened it up and pulled out the contents. My mind went into meltdown when I realised what I was looking at. It was a letter from an obviously very young child and it started with Dear Daddy. About a million questions flooded into my brain!!
Who was this kid? Who did I know in NZ? More to the point who did I know in NZ that would have sex with me? How old was this kid? Did I have sex with someone in that time frame?
All night I tossed and turned wondering about all these questions. Standing in the shower the next morning I finally remembered… I had a vasectomy in 1996… why oh why hadn’t I thought of that before!!
I dressed quickly and went down to reception and asked the clerk to check the registry for another Don Reid. Bingo! He had been there a few weeks before me.
I’ve never even met someone with the same name as me so the odds he would stay in the same hotel as me in New York can only prove he’s a cheap bastard too!