I'm late as usual.
"Get off my fucking bed, and leave!"
Now, that's better! Who needs a one night stand that lingers? There's only one everything bagel in the pantry, and not enough cream cheese to share with what's his name. Can you believe cream cheese molding isn't so bad? Just scrap off the green and voila! Okay, enough of this!
"Hey can I squeeze in there?"
Getting a seat on the subway has become a game of survival of the fittest. There's no rules anymore. There's no courtesy. No one gives a fuck if you've been standing by the ever elusive yellow line by 7:50AM. They will literally come from behind you, on their 7:59AM ass, and scavenger a seat down before you can even take a breath. Hey, but that's New York for ya! Great! My stop!
Starbucks- overpriced coffee, and the lines reach to the gates of hell, but I know the cashier. "Morning, Guy! Venti, Iced Americano with one pump of vanilla." Getting my coffee and passing by all the beady eyed, angry line of New Yorkers makes me smile inside. Outside the air fills my lungs with the brisk, fresh piney scent of fall. Each step takes me closer to the moneymaker. At least I have time to sip my coffee, and breathe before this meeting. Inside. Wave to Carl. Show my ID. Wait for the elevator. Ding! Zoom! Ding! 27th floor. Alas.
"Mary! Thank god you're here! The spreadsheets for the Fall 2016 merchandise is due today."
Ugh. This bitch. Did I forget that I called out and just showed up to work?
"Yes, I'm here! And yes, I have the spreadsheets done. It's 9:00, work just started, Teresa. So, step aside, because I haven't even sipped from my coffee, and I already have a migraine."
"Okay, I was just nervous, cause the meeting is in 10 minutes, and you said you would be here by 8:30 to let me go over the data."
"Oh my god, Teresa are you my keeper? I'm here! You don't even need to see the data. You should already know it. I just assembled them into a spreadsheet. Just, please, run along before I barf my morning bagel on your Jimmy Choos'"
Teresa, my assistant, acts like my boss on a day to day basis, because she's a lunatic. Honestly, without her I'd be fired, but I have to keep that bitch on check. You've seen Monica on Friends, well that's Teresa times 10. If I let her, she would micro manage my whole life. Anyway, here we go, meeting time.
A room full of Diane von Furstenburg wrap dresses, the latest Alexander WangxTarget collection, Zara, and yada, yada, yada. Want to know what I have on? Old Levi's, a Hanes white tee (I hate tags, and Michael Jordan surely sells the hell out of it,) and the first blazer I could find- that I told my boss was vintage. Obviously, it's not vintage, but it got her to stop looking at me with bloody murder eyes. You know the look? Like the way your mom looks at you when she's talking to a friend, and you interrupt them to tell her friend she's lying, and you know once you get home she's going to kill you- well that look.
"Okay, bringing this magazine back up will be a sheer nightmare, but we have the very best on this team. We need to work with what we've been sent, and remove the shit from the pile. So, Mary, can we see the spreadsheets for the upcoming merchandise?"
"Yeah, I laid a copy underneath the manila folders in front of you."
"Oh great! Okay, let's see. Oh, okay. Is this a joke?"
"Yeah, I tried to fucking tell you we didn't have to make spreadsheets, cause we don't have enough materials to work with. Unless you think this crap will sell the mag?"
Yeah, I'm a smart ass, and I don't respect my boss- cause she's my mom. Honestly, I told her this shit wouldn't work, but she wanted to bring me on board, and who says no to money? My mother was Editor-in-Chief at Composure Magazine. When she decided to leave, it was like a scene off Half Baked. She's like "who's coming with me?" Haha. Lucy was the only one who followed her, and I died laughing, cause obviously it's funny. People aren't loyal to anyone. She helped all those motherfuckers, and they all turned on her, except simple Lucy. We'll see when she turns.
"Mary, we will work with what we got, but thank you for that eloquent information. Okay, we need to set up articles around these products, and pick modes who will sell the hell out of it. So, let's get to work team. Oh, Mary and Teresa please stay behind."
Great. I'm in trouble, and crazy Teresa will probably throw me down the drain like an expired goldfish. Ugh. Smile, Mary.
"I need all the help I can from both of you. See who you can talk to, who you need to sleep with, or whatever the fuck needs to be done to get me one of a kind pieces to spruce all this shit up."
"I know this assistant at Balmain that can help me score some of the upcoming season jackets." Teresa, suck up of the year everybody. Let's see how much cum she'll have to swallow for this favor.
"I don't know anyone who can help. Can I just do something else?"
"No, Mary! I have some events lined up, it will get you mingling with the right people that you can sell this startup to. I have a whole bunch of vintage shit for you to wear too."
"Fine. I'll do it. Just let Teresa place the invitations on my desk. I have to take a dump."
I needed to get out of that room. Mingling? I hate forced conversations, unless it's mingling in front of a bar and forcing martinis' down my hatch. I can just imagine these fucking events, full of sheep I want nothing to do with, looking at me with disdain and unfamiliarity. I get shunned because I choose to be the drunk, instead of clean and predictable. They think I just love being in a room enveloped with the smell of their thousand dollar cologne and perfume; but of course I won't say no to mother dear, I'll go to the stupid events, eat, drink, and hopefully find someone to entangle sheets with. Maybe, just maybe, I'll finally go to someone else's place for once. I can't remember my last walk of shame. It's been so long, well since- almost 6 years now. Just thinking about it. I can't go back to that. It's just better if they come to my place. The doormen know the jig when guys come to my place. It's safe at 2141 Haven Ave. My place.
I was suppose to be taking a shit, but they knew I was lying. So, I'm here sitting on the bathroom stall next to the window trying to smoke a roach. The sun beams on my face, while I inhale and let the embodiment of Mary Jane fog up my lungs. Now, breathe out. Fuck, just burned my thumb. Well, that's what a roach is good for, two puffs and a burnt finger. The door- I can bet it's...
"Mary! I can smell that shit from outside" Theresa shrieks at me all the time for this. She's always the one sent in here to tell me to quit it, it's a beautiful routine really. Theresa loves this too, she just loves reprimanding the boss's daughter. I bet it gives that fucking Snow White an orgasm.
"Oh, is that so? So, I should stop?"
"Mary, do whatever the hell you want, but just get out of here. I got all the invitations ready on your desk. Take them, wear the clothes I sent over to your place, and for fucks sakes market the fuck out of the magazine!"
What else could I say to her, I mean I could've fired her for insubordination, but hey, I'm her boss smoking the pot and being all biggity. I do leave, not before grabbing her head and kissing her forehead. Just rubbing that stench of Mary Jane right into her pores. She grins at me, almost exposing that stupid diamond she got on her upper canine tooth. What a cunt.