After 2 days of driving finally I arrived at 10th street in NYC. My skin was worse for the wear (I seriously don't understand how truck drivers keep their complexion, lol) But all and all, I was doing ok.
There I was, cute talented girl ready to make her name in NYC.
The next job was to unload the truck but that wasn't too difficult. But as soon as I brought up my first plant, I was greeted by first NYC friend and new neighbor Sam.
Sam was seriously big perhaps 280 pounds and 5 foot 10 and really wide. As soon as Sam saw me with my plants he said, "hello", stuttering a bit. It's funny how a 5'4 100 pound girl can put fear into the heart of a grown man. I gave him my smile and said, "Hi, I'm Stacy."
"I'm Sam, are you moving in?"
Well, obviously, not so quick this fellow was. "Yes," I answered plants in hand with door open to my empty studio.
"You.... want some help?" Well at least he figured that much out.
"Yes, Thank you" I smiled.
He helped bring up my stuff. He got really sweaty as he did it. Clearly Sam could use a little dieting and perhaps a membership to a health club but he did a great job.
As soon as we were done, I offered to buy him a soda. He was very grateful. Here I was in NYC. Sam, was a writer and very shy. He told me about how he writes poetry and also plays. I told him I am an actress. We actually hit it off although he wasn't exactly the most handsome or the smoothest guy in the world, he'd do as a friend and at least we were in the same industry. Not to mention he moved all my stuff.
Anyways, I invited him out that night to go clubbing with me but he was too shy. Oh well. Later that week he knocked on my door as I was watching TV and he seemed really nervous. I told him to come in and asked him how he was doing. He said, "Good," and then didn't say anything for a moment then he said, "Stacy, I really like you and would like to go out with you."
Oh boy, here we go, I thought. "Sam, I'm really flattered but I think I'd prefer to just be friends with you. I'm new to town and really I'm not even sure if your my type in general. I'm just too small for you. You need a girl that's a bit bigger, don't you think." That was a good excuse I thought.
Sam looked like I just told him that every pet he ever owned just died.
I said, "Come in Sam." Let's watch TV. He said, "Ok"
He said on the exact opposite side of the couch, so I smiled and patted the couch next to me and said, come here. He shyly came over. I then leaned on him a bit and watched my show.
We did that a few times. Whenever I was watching TV Sam would come by and he's watch TV and I'd lean on him. He'd never move just sat their.
Then I had this great idea. I'd help Sam get into shape. I would never go out with Sam let's get that straight regardless of how much his shape he improved. But Sam was my new friend so I thoguht I'd help him out. So Sam and I went out for a run. He huffed and puffed. It was really sad the way he could barely run a single block. But Rome was not built in a day. We managed to run then walk for a mile that day. Afterwards, I left him back at the building and I told him that if he practices he'll be able to outrun me before he knows it. Fat chance I thought to myself, but, I had to give him some positive reinforcement. I then finished the rest of my run.
Over the two months I managed to get a job waiting tables at a very trendy Italian Restaurant. And I managed to get into a small off Broadway production of some really bad play (You gotta start somewhere).
Anyways, it was at about that time that one Saturday morning Sam asked me if I'd like to go for a running. I was glad he asked because I hadn't been that diligent with my workout but I was also a little surprised. So I got on my little running shorts and my t shirt and we went. I was shocked. Sam was going at a much quicker pace than I was used to. I used to be a track and field star in highschool. I didn't understand how this was possible. I was breathing quite heavy and my legs were getting sore. I couldn't believe how much he improved and how out of shape I was from only two months of no running and perhaps a bit too much partying the previous night. But I wasn't going to let a 280 pound guy beat me so I tried my best to keep up till finally after about 2 miles I gave in and walked to the grass of the nearby park and collapsed.
"What's wrong, Stacy?" A big sweaty Sam asked.
"I pulled my hamstring," I lied, not wanting to tell him that he was in better shape than me. I was just pooped.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll get a cab," He said. And he got a cab and we went home. And I took a shower quite quiet and shocked. I put on sweats and went to bed. Sam knocked on the door and I let him in. He asked me if I was feeling better, I said yeah. He asked if I wanted a massage to help with the muscle pull. I figured why not. I might as well get a free massage now that I have such a good excuse.
