What a blasé Sunday…even though it has completely and utterly sucked, give or take a few highlights
It began last night at the stroke of midnight when a guest returned from the wedding that had wrapped an hour ago (a completely non alcoholic wedding) claiming that her jewelry had been stolen out of her purse. And that it was probably one of us.
This set in a train reaction of events that included we, the servers, go through all the dirty linen bags in search of the missing jewels and eventually to the House holding our money for a hot minute until they reviewed the cameras. At this point it was close to two in the morning and I decided I’d just get the cash tomorrow (well, later today).
So I went to the train, waited a God for saken hour and eventually strolled home at three in the morning. Broker than I left.
I wake up today with the plan to go get the money, meet a girlfriend at a bar close to work and watch Sunday football. I call work at one…no answer. Two….no answer. Finally at a quarter of four I get ahold of the MOD and he says to come in, money’s here. I truck all the way downtown (in the mucky slush of old rain) only to find out that he doesn’t have the combination to the safe and that sorry I can get the money tomorrow or Tuesday, my next scheduled day. I’m like fuck.
So I call my girlfriend and say sorry, can’t make it, no cash. She’s already drunk so I figure I’m really not missing much.
I decide to trek home and drop off some things before deciding to go to the grocery store. I wanted to make Boyfriend a belated birthday dinner with the little cash I still had. I’m walking from the subway to my building when I see a police car with flashing lights. I’m like “oh great, the bitch from the 6th probably beat up one of her kids again or her man got pinched again or something of the norm uptown.
I get closer and realize it’s Teenager, a black girl from my building whose mother has become a close friend and someone I respect. I walk over to Teenager who is leaning on my car that’s parked directly in front of the building, since August 3, 2008. I don’t even look at the car, just Teenager and the cops.
"You okay?" I ask Teenager. She shrugs and the cop, Carroll, asks me if this is my car. I say, yes and ask why that matters. He then looks at me and says because of that, pointing to the windshield. I turn around and OMG. My windshield is busted in, glass everywhere and looked like bullet shots went through it. I turn back to Teenager. “You do this?!?!” I demand and Cop Carroll interrupts (again) no Mam, her brother did. And then proceeds to ask if I will be pressing charges?
Before I can even respond Teenagers Mom, I call her TiTi emerges from a gypsy cab and begins screaming at her daughter. She then assures me her son will be pay for the damages and asks if I would call off the man hunt. I agree to. Don’t need to have my own neighbors thinking I have it out for um. But now its three hours after the incident and no one can find her son. Gosh.
I did learn the whole story eventually and found out that Teenager had a boy in her mother’s apartment alone and older Brother found out. He then busted in and they all started fighting. One thing led to another and big Brother ran the sleazy boy out of the building and for some reason unbeknownst to me Brother decided to jump on the car to catch the boy and broke the windshield. He has since been hiding out, fearing I have the police on his trail.
I finally then went to the store and got all the ingredients, evening fighting for the last eight ounce ribeye steak at the Meat Counter, to make an awesome dinner, yet my ice cream melted while I waited for the cashier to void items off the person in front of me’s check. And the liquor store was closed by the time I got there. And the horrible hill that I have to walk up was completely being torn up and my carted kept getting stuck and no one let me pass them.
T minus 4 hours until this day is over. I’m hoping for redemption.