I have the very distinct feeling that I dodged a bullet last week. Actually, it’s more than a feeling. The posts on this blog can attest to the fact: scary weird, scary weird, scary weird, lipstick mania, scary weird.
In the interest of not getting shot, I am removing myself from the proverbial shooting range (did I mention that the Attorney told me that he really likes guns, and carries when he’s not in the City…? Niiiiice!).
I am no longer accepting new Secret Job clients. A handful of my regulars will be grandfathered in. I am reducing my shifts at the Superstudio by 50%. It is my intention to quit doing this professionally altogether within 90 days. If the landlord has to wait an extra week sometimes to get the rent paid in full, well, he’ll just have to wait. This is NYC; he can’t throw me out.
Dating efforts are suspended until relative order and normalcy has been restored. If I need a date for the movies and sex every now and then, well, there are plenty of men in my telephone who are reliably harmless and do not bother me when I don’t want to be bothered.
All communications from the Attorney will henceforth be deleted unread and unheard.
If the Surgeon bothers me one more goddamned time, he’s going to hear from my lawyer. I called the last one I had to hire to help me get rid of a meddling dude (John). He is ready to compose Ye Olde Cease and Desist Letter. Officer Friendly at the local precinct is going to file my complaint. The nice ladies in family court are going to take my statement, and the nice Judge at Family Court is going to give me Ye Olde Temporary Restraining Order. The police can serve it to him in his doorman Upper East Side apartment. Let him explain that one to his neighbors.
There are going to be many alcoholics in this neighborhood who are going to be eating a great number of my cookies in the next thirty days. In fact, I fed them my first batch yesterday afternoon. My Sunday Crispy Burnout meeting, which I haven’t attended in a month. The burnouts were quite crispy last night, quite crispy indeed. They were glad to see me, however, and they were quite happy to see my freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Two young men squabbled with each other over whether it was fair for one of them to take two cookies, instead of one. The Sheriff had to intervene. Now boys, my cookies should not disturb your serenity! One apiece till everyone gets one!
The fish tank was cleaned, the Parrot was entertained and fed almonds, the bills were mailed, the students were scheduled, the phone calls were returned, the newspaper was read. And I called my mother and my brother. We now return to our regularly scheduled programming!
P.S. If you’ve sent me email or comments and I haven’t responded, sorry about that–I was out to lunch. I’ll get back to you soon.
|“THANKS TO THIS PROGRAM, MY FISH TANK IS CLEAN!”|