It’s 2:00 AM, and I’m at the keyboard, drinking Lillet with a bit of orange peel and eating grapes and walnuts with blue cheese. My boss called me this afternoon, laughing. "Boy," she said, "Am I glad they didn’t require drug tests, when they hired me!" She wanted to know if it’d be OK to have the offer letter sent to me at work, rather than Fed-Exing it to my house. "Sure," I said, "And I’ll drink lots of water this weekend, and of course I’ll avoid poppy seed bagels..."
I guess that means we won’t be discussing salary. I guess that means the offer will be in the letter.
Well then.
I left at a little after 4:00, and still it took me an hour and a half to drive home. I drove straight to the post office, where I picked up my painting with 5 minutes to spare before closing. I looked around, but there was no one remotely resembling Bukowski working there. Then I drove to Dino’s Shoe Repair to pick up the pair of sandals I’d dropped off last Saturday. The ankle strap needed to be repaired, and when I dropped them off, I was told I could pick them up today. They weren’t ready, though. "The elastic, we do not have," the woman said. "We have order. It will be here tomorrow morning. You come back tomorrow afternoon, after 2:00. They ready then. So sorry."
"It’s OK," I said. "I’ll come by tomorrow."
I went home and tore open the painting. I wasn't disappointed. It’s beautiful, and this was a week where I needed something beautiful. I put it in my bedroom.
My kitchen is a mess, but I took out the garbage. Dinner was mushroom/goat cheese quesadillas with pico de gallo, sour cream, and a Mexican coke, after which I channel surfed and dozed on the couch. Now it’s almost 2:00, and I’m sipping Lillet and listening to Nick Cave and eating grapes and typing...I say typing, because I don’t think this actually qualifies as writing...
And as for that offer letter...we’ll see.
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5 comments:
ooooo, it is 4:30 a.m. here. I really do need to get to bed. But anyway, (1) I have been wondering about your job situation. (2)I love your eBay painting. (3) Your comment about the difference between writing/typing reminds me of what Truman Capote said about the Beats, Kerouac in particular: "That's not writing; it's typewriting." (4) Man, the stuff you eat! If I EVER get a chance to eat at your house, I'm comin'.
What, pray tell is Mexican Coke? Hope the offer is everything you wish for and more.
Mexican coke is coca-cola made in Mexico, where they still use cane sugar to sweeten it and the bottles are still glass. It tastes completely different from American coke, much more like the Coke I grew up with. If you get a chance, try it sometime!
p.s. - Theresa, I would LOVE to have you come to dinner at my house. That would be a great evening, and I promise the food would be memorable too!
This entry is fantastic! Always a privelege to get a glimpse into the day-to-day. :-)
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