Save Karyn

by Karyn Bosnak

  “Hi, Karyn, it’s Scott!” a guy’s voice said. Scott was a guy I used to work with in Chicago at The Jenny Jones Show. He now also lived in New York and worked for the Sally Jessy Raphael Show.

  “Hi!” I exclaimed. I was happy to hear from him.

  “How’s the bike treating you?” he asked. Scott and I had bought bikes together one day during the two months I had off. It was actually kind of funny, because one day he called me up and asked me to go bike riding.

  “Oh, I’d love to, but I don’t have a bike,” I’d said.

  “Me neither, let’s go buy some,” he’d said.

  “Okay!” I yelled. And so about a half hour later, I met Scott at the local bike store by my apartment and we each spent about $300 on a bike just so we could go bike riding. But the difference between Scott’s purchase and my purchase was that he’d wanted a bike for a long time and had been saving up for one. So he paid cash. But I just wanted to go for a bike ride that day, so I charged mine.

  “Great, the bike is treating me great,” I said. The truth was that I hadn’t taken it out since we last went for a ride.

  Anywho, just as God was listening to me when I needed to find a hair place for cheap, and just as God was listening to me when I needed that Discover Card, God too was listening to me worry about finding a cheaper place to live.

  “Cool,” he said. “Listen, the reason I am calling is that I remember the last time we talked you said something about your rent going up to almost two thousand dollars a month. And I found a great huge two-bedroom apartment that I want to move into, but my current roommate doesn’t want to move. So I was just wondering if you’d be interested in moving in with me and having a roommate.”

  “Yes, absolutely!” I said without hesitation. “How much is the rent?”

  “It’s twenty-three hundred a month, so it would come out to $1,150 each,” he answered. Eleven fifty a month? That would save me $800 a month on rent alone! Almost $10,000 a year!

  “Oh my gosh, I’ll take it,” I said immediately. “I don’t even need to see it.”

  “Wait, wait, let me tell you about it. It’s huge. You’ll die when you see it. It’s two bedrooms, two bathrooms, two floors. And it’s brand new. It was built only a year ago, so everything in it is new. Oh yeah, and it’s in Brooklyn.”

  “Brooklyn?” I asked. I hesitated. I thought about my “near Brooklyn” experience when I’d forgotten to get off the train on the way to get my hair done.

  “Yeah, Brooklyn,” he said. “It’s in a neighborhood called Boerum Hill, which is right past Brooklyn Heights and Cobble Hill. It’s only three stops on the subway from Manhattan. It’s in an awesome neighborhood. Brooklyn is a very cool place to live. It’s kind of like Bucktown was in Chicago,” he said. Bucktown in Chicago is an area that used to be considered “dangerous” until all the yuppies started to move in and take it over. So it still had a gritty city feeling to it, with pockets of bad areas. But for the most part it was safe. In the rent department, you got a lot more for your money in Bucktown. And it seemed to be that that was the case with Brooklyn too. But even when I lived in Chicago, I was never a Bucktown kind of girl. I was a Michigan Avenue kind of girl. So I doubted I was a Brooklyn type of girl either, but the price was just too good to pass up.

  “Okay, I’m in,” I said. “I seriously don’t even need to see it. I trust your judgment. Just sign me up.”

  “Cool,” he said. “It’s available October first. I’ll call the landlord and tell him that we will take it, but I still think you should see it. So let’s go this weekend.”

  “Okay, sounds like a plan,” I said.

  As I hung up the phone, a huge smile crept across my face. I was going to be okay. I was going to get out of this horrible mess and move into a cheaper apartment. Everything was going to be okay. I just needed to call my landlord and make sure that they would let me out of my lease. And seeing as I was a month behind in my rent, I didn’t see why they wouldn’t.

  THE NEXT DAY Scott called to tell me that the landlord was getting the lease ready, but would also have to run a credit check on each of us. I had Mary type up a note telling him that I made over $100,000 a year because I knew he would probably freak out when he saw that I owed about $25,000. I faxed it to him along with the credit check consent form that Scott had told me to fill out.

  On Wednesday morning, I called my landlord to ask if I could break my lease. No one was available for me to speak to, so I just left a message. That day, the King World sales team was having a big sales luncheon for the show at Chelsea Piers, and the entire staff had to attend. And of course when someone from my landlord’s office called me back, I was right in the middle of lunch.

  “Hi, Karyn? This is the attorney from your landlord’s office. You called about a question on your lease?” she said.

  “Yeah. Thanks for calling me back,” I said nervously, making my way outside. “Um, as you probably know, I am a month behind in my rent, and I was just wondering if there is any way that you would let me out of my lease. I’ve just had some problems paying my bills lately. I honestly just can’t pay the rent anymore.” No more excuses. No more “I lost my checkbook.” I had to be honest.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “If we find someone to rent your apartment we’ll let you out of your lease. But if we don’t then you’ll be responsible for the rent until we do.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m looking to move out by October first.” I didn’t want to move. I loved my apartment, but I didn’t have a choice. I started to cry again.

  “Well, that gives us a little over a month,” she said. Just then, she could tell that I was crying. “Listen, don’t worry, honey. Between us I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to find someone.” She was so nice.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “And you know what? Since we have a security deposit from you, why don’t you just pay August’s rent, and I’ll use the security deposit for September’s. It’ll be easier rather than having you pay September, and have us do an inspection, and then reimburse you.”

  “You’d do that?” I asked.

  “Yes. I’ll just have Spiro the super assure me the apartment is in good condition.” she said.

  As I hung up, I wiped my eyes dry and went back inside to the party. That call, and the one that I’d made the day before to the credit counseling service, were two of the most humbling calls I had ever made in my life. It was embarrassing to own up to the fact that I had been so irresponsible. But I was doing the right thing. Everything was going to be okay. I was going to get my finances cleared up, move into a cheaper apartment, and if I was still unhappy at my job, then I wouldn’t feel so trapped to stay and I could quit. I was going to be okay.

  TEN

  GRAND DEBT TALLY $24,696.00

  THE LAUNCH

  After three months of preparation hell, The Ananda Lewis Show finally premiered on Monday, September 10, 2001. Despite my exhaustion and utter hatred of the show, I couldn’t help but to feel excited. I hoped it did well. When you work that hard on something, you want to be proud of the final product. I wanted it all to be worth it.

  As for my big Fire Island share, I eventually had a chance to go one weekend, but it was just not my scene. It was nice, but it was just a little too college-ey for me. I hated it. And I had paid for four weekends of it. What a waste.

  As planned, I went to see the apartment in Brooklyn with Scott, and he was indeed correct. It wasn’t that far from Manhattan, the neighborhood was kind of cool, and the apartment itself was huge. In addition to being two floors, it also had a backyard!

  The landlord, however, was reluctant to rent it to us after he saw my credit report. He couldn’t understand how I made so much money but still had so much debt. After Scott assured him that I was a trustworthy person, he finally approved our application. He did, however, make us give him two months rent as a security deposit, which I didn’t have. So, vowing to never do it again, I called my mother and begged her for
the money. And like she always helped me with my Marshall Field’s bill at home, she helped me out in this situation too—but told me it was the last time.

  That Monday, as I finished up some last-minute changes for my show that was set to tape the following day, I couldn’t help but feel excited. I was moving into a cheaper apartment, I was on a credit card repayment schedule, and the show was finally premiering. All these things meant that life would hopefully get easier. Everything was coming together.

  That night, there was a big launch party for the show that took place in the penthouse suite of the Hudson Hotel. The Hudson Hotel was one of the hippest hotels in the city. It was an Ian Schrager hotel, which meant that it was super cool. The last two times that I had been to the bar there, I’d seen Harrison Ford and Claudia Schiffer. Separately, but I saw them. And he is just as sexy in person, ladies. And she was just as pretty too.

  As the day wound down and the party grew nearer, I began to feel a bit of pressure because I hadn’t yet finished writing my script for tomorrow’s show. But being the CEO of my own life, I knew that I needed balance. So staying and working while everyone else went to the party was not the answer. So even though I wasn’t finished, I left work around seven to go to the party, and vowed to come in early in the morning to finish the script.

  The penthouse suite at the Hudson took up the entire top floor of the hotel. The suite was shaped like a U, with each leg of the U being a huge outside deck. One side was completely open with tables, and the other side was covered with a tent. There were open bars and people passing hors d’oeuvres. The inside was decorated with all-white furniture, metal chairs and Lucite tables. It was one swanky party! Now this was what I imagined the life of a New York City television producer was like!

  Shortly after the party started, it began to rain. Then pour. A huge thunderstorm started. As hotel staffers tried to close the sides of the tent, a powerful gust of wind blew across the deck and plates and glasses went flying. A few minutes later, my AP, Molly, got a call from Jennifer in the travel department. All of our guests that were going to be on the show tomorrow were flying in that evening, and because of the heavy rain, their flights were canceled. So Molly had to return to the office to reschedule all of them on morning flights.

  About an hour later, the rain finally stopped and the hotel staff reopened the sides of the tent. I don’t know if it was the aftereffects of the storm, but there was not a breeze in the air. The night was perfectly still and the sky had become perfectly clear. It was a beautiful night.

  After mingling and mixing with everyone at the party, I walked over to the edge of the roof and took a good look at the beautiful Manhattan skyline. A smile crept across my face because it was my city. New York was now my home and I wasn’t going to let it eat me up. I was going to get through this rough financial time and survive here. I couldn’t let a bad couple of months get me down.

  After the party, a few other staff members and I went out to another place. And after rescheduling all of our guests’ flights for the morning, Molly joined us as well. That night we stayed out until 3 A.M. Because she lived in Queens and didn’t want to go all the way home, Molly ended up staying on my couch.

  The next morning we both woke up in a daze and hurried back to work to finish the script for our show. The show was about women and heart disease, and all of the guests were women who had suffered heart attacks at early ages. Sarah Ferguson, as in the Duchess of York, was the spokesperson for the American Heart Association, and was also scheduled to be a guest. I was so looking forward to meeting her.

  Because of the party the night before, the morning meeting that usually took place at 8:30 was moved to 9:00. Since all of our guests were rescheduled to arrive that morning, I had Molly check on the flights to make sure they would be on time.

  Around 8:45 A.M., as I was putting the finishing touches on the script, I heard someone say something about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. As I looked up from my desk to the television in the corner of the office, I saw the news feed of smoke coming out of the side of one of the buildings.

  “What happened?” I yelled to Kirk, our news producer, who was standing by the television.

  “A plane crashed into the World Trade Center,” he said.

  “How horrible,” I said. “Like a commuter plane?” I asked.

  “They’re not sure,” he said. I turned around and looked out the window to see if I could see smoke, but I couldn’t. The World Trade Center was all the way down in the Financial District, which was about four miles south of me. As the news started reporting more details about what happened, more staff members gathered around the television, including me. All of a sudden, as we were watching, Kirk jumped up.

  “Oh my gosh, did you see that?” he screamed.

  “See what?” I asked.

  “Another plane just crashed into the other building!” A few minutes later, the news started to replay the second crashing over and over again, and everyone in the office started to get incredibly worried.

  “That’s not an accident,” Kirk said. “Two planes don’t accidentally fly into the biggest buildings in Manhattan. That was very deliberate.” Just then I thought about our guests who were flying in that morning. I knew Sarah Ferguson was already in town, but we had three other sets of people scheduled to land around 8:30 A.M. I turned around and saw Molly at her desk.

  “Molly,” I said, yelling in the direction of her cube. “Did our guests land?”

  “I’m already on top of it,” she said. “I’ve called Jennifer in travel and she’s checking.”

  As time went by, people started pacing and panic began to set in. A lot of people had friends who worked in the building and weren’t sure of their whereabouts. I, fortunately, did not know anyone.

  Around 9:15, my boss called our show meeting. We still didn’t know what was going on, and therefore didn’t know if we would be taping. But by the end of the meeting, news came in that Manhattan had been locked down, and we soon began to realize the magnitude of what was happening. We would definitely not be taping any shows today.

  When I returned to my desk, Molly confirmed with Jennifer that all of our guests had landed safely. The only problem was that we couldn’t find them. They were either still at the airport or in cars on their way to the city, but with all the panic we couldn’t figure it out.

  “Molly,” I said, starting to freak out, “these women have heart conditions.”

  “I know, I know,” she said, looking at me.

  I picked up the phone to call Sarah Ferguson’s PR agency to let them know that we weren’t taping, but I kept getting a busy signal. Then finally, after several attempts, I got through. After talking to a woman on the phone, I found out that Sarah Ferguson had already left Manhattan.

  As news flashed on the TV about another plane crashing into the Pentagon, Jennifer told Molly and me that one of the drivers from the car company that we used had one of our guests in his car in Queens. He was unable to bring her into Manhattan though because of the bridges and tunnels being closed, so Jennifer was setting up for him to take her to a hotel around where they were.

  Just then, Molly’s phone rang, and another one of our guests confirmed that she and her husband were just dropped off at her hotel down the street. Since I didn’t really know what was going on, and felt responsible for bringing these people into New York, I asked Mike to bring them money so they weren’t stranded there penniless.

  “I don’t want to go,” Mike said. “I want to go home.”

  “Mike, I know, and I want to go home too. But please just do this one thing for me. The hotel is just down the street. It’s a half a block away. We are responsible for these people. We brought them here, and we can’t all just leave and go home. We have to make sure they’re safe.”

  “I know but I want to go home,” he said again. “I want to be with my family.” He seemed to be on the verge of tears. For as much as Mike bugged me, I felt bad.

  “If y
ou just bring them the money then you can go home. Please,” I begged. Just then Jennifer’s radio went off.

  “You have two more guests that just arrived downstairs,” she said. They were our final missing guests.

  “Please, Mike,” I said. “If you go to the hotel, I’ll take care of the people downstairs.”

  “Okay,” he finally said reluctantly.

  Mike and I walked downstairs, and as I stopped to take care of the people in the lobby, he kept walking to the hotel. The guest was the mother of an eighteen-year-old girl who died from a heart attack. The daughter was perfectly healthy and had been on her way to a Dave Matthews Band concert with her friends. Just yesterday, her family and friends had held a prayer service to mark the one-year anniversary of her death. I introduced myself to her and her sister, who she’d brought along as a traveling companion. They were from Georgia and were both so sweet.

  “Hi, Karyn,” she said. I could tell she was terrified.

  “Hi,” I replied. “Everything is going to be fine.” I tried to sound calm.

  “You know, Karyn, I want so badly to be with my daughter—but not like this,” she said. This poor woman was still so fragile, and I’d brought her to New York during one of the biggest terrorist attacks ever.

  “I know, I know,” I said. “But we are all going to be fine. And as much as you want to, you are not going to be seeing her anytime soon.” I had no idea if this was true.

  After giving them $100 in cash, I put them into a cab to go to their hotel. As the cab pulled away, I looked across the street at the CBS building. People were running in and out of the revolving doors. I imagined that they had probably just called almost every employee in to work. It was a frightening sight. It was chaotic.

  Shortly after I returned to my desk, Mike too returned and gathered his stuff to go home. Shortly after, news came in about the two towers collapsing. This time when I turned around to look out the window behind me, I saw a big white cloud. It didn’t look like smoke. It just looked like a cloud.