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to move within a few months and, because I wished to have a normal, legal, two-year lease, I knew that any place that I found would have to be furnished by yours truly.
That, in turn, presented a problem because I had virtually no cash. (Phyllis and I had been living essentially from check to check; when we split up; I paid all three camp tuitions, gave Phyllis another $3,000 for support of the children for the month, and divided the remaining mea- ger amount of money in the checking account with her.)
And having no money on hand was not my only problem. In fact, it was the easiest problem to cope with. It could be handled, at least tem- porarily, by taking out a loan from my friendly local banker at Citibank, N.A. Much harder to cope with would be the hurt, the sense of despair, and—yes—the anger that resulted from the breakup of the marriage and my physical distance from the children. Plus, there were the issues of how to start a new life (at about forty-four years of age!), how to deal with the children now that I was in New York City, how to agree upon a “Separation Agreement” (a necessary step to obtaining a legal divorce), and—did I mention it?—how to start a new life.
But I’ll begin with the practical side of things. After a reasonably short hunt, I found a new place to live—in the same neighborhood, at 45 West 60th Street. The new apartment, 24E, was on the twenty-fourth floor and had a beautiful view to the east (past Columbus Circle and along Central Park South) and a somewhat less memorable view to the north (probably just other buildings, what brokers refer to as a “cityscape”).
And, as anticipated, it was in need of furnishings. As I said, I don’t remember what I left Farragut Road with, but I do know that I had near zero in the essentials department. A few inquiries led me to a service at Bloomingdale’s through which a comprehensive job could be done. Thus it was that I braved the perfume haze that is the first floor of that department store and found my “advisor” in the furniture department upstairs (actually, up escalators). My advisor seemed to have had a fair amount of experience with recently separated males who looked as if they would spend. (I was wearing a suit.) Within about one hour, I had
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