I think I may have laundered money today... maybe I should ask the Office Space guys?

So, I signed the lease for my apartment in Washington Heights today... and I can move in tomorrow, so that's pretty awesome.

All I had to do was bring about $3,000 worth of bank certified checks for various things (first month's rent, security deposit, etc...) The only problem is my bank (along with my vast fortune of course) is in Florida.

Hmmm...

So I also have a checking account with Bank of America, which is almost as common as Starbucks in some parts of New York, so I go there and start trying to figure how to get $3,000 in my hands in New York City asap... without catching gonnhasyphyherpeles from some random stranger in Chinatown.

I talk on the phone with my bank in Florida and they can't help me get my money in any way shape or form. No surprise, they've been as useless as my appendix lately.

So instead they tell me to take a cash advance on my debit card, and assure me not to worry because there's no limit. Sounds too good to be true right? Well it of course was.

So I go to the counter at the BofA and ask for a cash of advance for just over $3,000... and it comes back denied... which is pretty damn embarrassing to say the least. Teller #1 then tells me I need to call my bank in Florida again to figure out what's wrong.

I do, the different person says I do indeed have a limit, and it happens to be exactly $3,000. So I go back to the counter, and get teller #2. I try to be subtle and not too loud in asking for $3,000 cash money, but she's a little hard of hearing and has to doublecheck the amount... "$3,000 you say, right?" she nearly yells from the safety of being behind her bullet-proof glass. I'm sure a a couple people in the not so empty place glanced our direction.

Awesome.

So she gives me this wad of cash that barely fits in my wallet and makes my wallet barely fit in my back pocket and I start wandering the streets of New York City.

I really do feel relatively safe in NYC in general. I figure if something is going to happen to me, it is going to happen to me anyway no matter where I am... but wandering around the city with thousands of dollars in cash bulging out of my ass left me a little uneasy as I walked to the subway to head toward the apartment complex.

So I go into a different bank and ask if I could use the cash to get bank certified checks, and they tell me only a bank I have an account with can do that. I'm a writer, not a banker, I know jack about these simple banking matters.

Then a lightbulb goes on in my head and I go back to the BofA. I have an account there.

I get teller #3 (conveniently situated right between tellers 1 and 2) and ask if I can now deposit my fresh just out of the bank 3 g's cash money. If she hadn't seen me just cash advance the money from the girl next to her, she probably would have assumed I was a drug dealer. Luckily, she just thought I was a confused moron instead.

So then she takes the cash back, puts it in my account and then takes it right back out to make some certified checks for the apartment folk.

So long story short, I went to a bank and magically created $3,000, deposited it into my checking account with the same bank and then produced certified checks from the same bank.

No wonder so many people are in so much financial trouble. Once I figured out what I was doing, that was just way too easy.

Anywho...

So my wrist has been hurting. I started thinking, and I realized the only dairy I've had since I got here was the cheese on pizza and cheeseburgers... so I'm convinced it's from a lack of calcium. Maybe I'll have to start drinking white russians once I get over this quasi-cold. Every little bit counts right?

Also, I'm still feeling a bit under the weather in general. So to fight that, I've been downing virgin screwdrivers like there's no tomorrow at work.

Gratuitous Chinatown mention...

Also... I went to Chinatown for lunch again today on the way to signing my lease...

Eating in Chinatown is an interesting thing. There are so many restaurants and no way to really pick... so usually something has to catch your attention. There is usually some sort of sign that points to the "right" place to eat.

Today, the decision was pretty much made for me. As I was walking down Canal Street, I saw a cook hop out of the back of a truck with a whole dead hog heaved over his shoulder and I totally followed him to his restaurant. I could still see a big blood stain on the pigs not-so-smiling face as it bounced up and down on the guy's shoulder.

So tomorrow should be pretty busy with the whole sort of moving in thing, so it's time to hit the hay...

P.S. The Devil Rays are currently number one in the AL East right now, in case you didn't know...

Word?