I Guess We Are Real NYC Citizens Now
Oh good lord, what a freaking night!!!!! This week has been one interesting thing after another. Stuff at work, our first paycheck, and then, to top it all off…. Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.
So work has been busy and tiring, but good. I’m still not sure where all those towels from the top floor came from. That doubles my washing time, unless I want to do a load daily. I might go that route in the end. But something is going to have to be done about those creatures in the basement laundry room. I’m not very squeamish, but this is New York, and they are rumored to have rats the size of gators in the sewers. And who knows whether or not the basement has a sewer grate.
I was going along fine Monday, until it came time to unload the dishwasher and put away the clean dishes. I’ve resigned myself to very likely having to do double the work on Mondays since nobody apparently knows how the dishwasher works on the weekend. So I did the first load and when I opened the cupboard to put away the first batch of cups, there was one cup front and center of the bottom shelf, right where I couldn’t miss it. With a very passive aggressive post-it note. Said note read:
“Do Not. Ever. Wash This Cup. Again. EVER!!!!!”
I’m not sure what came over me in that moment. I try to always be professional at work, even when I am annoyed by The Man. Sunny and I discussed the situation of working on the top floors, and we agreed we would keep our heads down, do what we were told, and just collect our paycheck. But there was something about that post-it note. So I did what any self-respecting housekeeper would do.
“Hey, Jarvis, where can I find a post-it pad?”
In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the best or most professional idea. I left my response next to the original post-it note on the cup. And I went about my business. By the time our coffee break came around, I had decided it was not a good idea and I went to throw my note away. And the cup was gone. I hid my panic and went on with the night. I’ve been apprehensive, but nothing has been said about it.
Tonight we went into work, and there, clipped to the fridge, was our glorious first check! We took a quick minute to squeal as quietly as we could and do a little dance, then I stowed it in my purse for safekeeping. We got to work quickly, trying to get everything done as soon as possible, because we had agreed to stop for a celebratory meal on our way home. We even managed to get out of work before midnight.
Sunny had been wanting to try the Tick Tock Diner since we moved here, and it wasn’t too far from our subway station, so I agreed to it. The place is absolutely awesome! I love the décor, and the menu was fabulous. It took a good while for us to decide though. I ended up getting the lemon ricotta quinoa pancakes with a side of sausage and an egg cream soda for my meal, and Sunny got the Reuben with onion rings. We toasted our success (me with a cosmopolitan and her with a jolly rancher) while we split the disco fries. And even though we were stuffed to the gills, we also ordered dessert of apple pie (Sunny) and tiramisu (me). It felt so good to just pay with the company card and tip VERY well without batting an eyelash. We left the diner about 1:15am with our leftover desserts in carryout boxes, laughing and very, very full.
We were walking back towards Times Square subway station to head home, just minding our own business, when this guy jumped out in front of us. I was startled, but guided Sunny to go around him. And that’s when he pulled out a knife and demanded our bags. Sunny practically threw her little backpack purse at him, along with her dessert and the to-go coffee. I’m surprised he managed to not get burned by the coffee. He caught her purse and then demanded mine. I was not about to give it up, our paycheck – a VERY NICE paycheck, I might add – was in there! I told him no. I think he was a little shocked, but then he reached out and grabbed the strap of my purse. I kept a grip on it and a tug of war ensued. Sunny kept telling me to just give it to him, and he was telling me to listen to my friend, but I just got madder the more he pulled. Finally he reached out with the knife and slashed the strap, yanking it free from me, turning to take off through the park. I don’t know exactly what got into me, but I chased him. I was so pissed! Unfortunately, I am also very out of shape, so it wasn’t long before I felt my lungs burning. As I doubled over panting, he disappeared into the night. But not before I screamed after him, “You just wait until my boss finds out! Tony Stark’s gonna find you and kick your ass!”
I returned to Sunny, who was shaking and holding the dessert boxes she’d picked up. She offered me her other fist. “I have subway fare, at least.” I told her we were NOT going home, as I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911.
A few minutes later a black and white pulled up. It was Officers Yang and Hancock. The first, ridiculous words out of my mouth were, “My purse did NOT get towed!”
After a few initial questions, Officer Yang asked us to go to the station with them to make our reports and give them a good description of the guy. Definitely not a problem, we had both gotten a good look at him. About 5’9”, maybe 180, white guy wearing jeans, a black hoodie, sunglasses, and Converse tennis shoes. He had a mustache and the hair over his forehead was curly.
We made it home close to 4am. And although we hadn’t recovered anything, I made Sunny promise one thing. In no way was Tony Stark to EVER find out what had happened. I promised her I would speak to Miss Potts about replacing our paycheck. And now I am nervous about being out so late at night. Maybe it is time to get some mace.