It all started Monday (doesn't it always?) when I got a call from a client to review two files we have pending on said client's behalf. Since the two files represent about $3 million dollars of expense, I didn't balk -- thanQverymooch -- and got to reviewing the stuff because we weren't getting very far with the NYC Agency with which we had been working to get the client benefits. Lost yet? Good.
Anyhoo...so we made an appointment with higher-ups in that agency and -- at the same time -- I got more "good" news in that another matter on which I've been working was in need of a seven-person meeting and that the meeting time would be indicated sometime Monday afternoon. So...I get a call from Client A advising me that we'll be meeting with the higher-ups at 10AM on Friday, January 21st, and then about a half-hour later I get a call regarding Matter B indicating our meeting will be at 10:30AM on Friday, January 21st. PANIC. Then I realize it's time to run to Bathroom C. Sounds like some sort of horrific Chinese menu gone very much awry.
I call back Client A to re-work the meet time, which we do -- to 9:30AM. But then I realize it might not be enough time to wrap up before Meeting B, so I e-mail Client A, explaining the timing and that I will do whatever necessary to get it done, but if not, we'll go back for reinforcement (ie to search for more paper) and go from there. Soooooo....I work until late yesterday night, get to sleep almost immediately upon returning home (and leaving some graffiti on the blog), and wakey-wakey at 5:30AM, out the door at 6:15ish.
The world is a strange fucking place at 6:15AM. There are a lot of people flitting about. There are buses, there are mothers with babies, there are sanitation workers, and there are drivers who aren't paying as much attention to the road as they are their coffee...hence I almost got picked off at 55MPH on York Avenue crossing over to get me a ride to the office. Since I was wound tighter than a nun's cha-cha on a cold day in the castle, I didn't much mind nearly becoming a hood ornament -- although if that ever happens, I am hoping it's a Rolls-Royce or a Bentley that takes me down and not some piece-of-shit Lincoln Town Car (Gypsy Cab model) that almost had my name all over it (and my form on its hood).
So I manage to arrive at my office in one piece -- I don't remember the last time I made it to the office before 7AM but I remember this morning. It was very strange heading upstairs in the elevator at the time when most people (myself included) are just getting out of bed, but whatever -- that's why I get paid (ha!) the big bucks.
I finished assembling all the paperwork I (thought I) needed for my first meeting so I made the requisite copies and headed Downtown. Of course I was loving life when the train got stuck for about ten minutes at 14th Street, leaving me and the roadies wound even tighter than my prior description (okay, if you need yet another descriptive metaphor, I -- and the roadies, too -- were wound tighter than a frog's ass in a toxic swamp. You asked for it, dintcha?).
Needless to say, I got to my first meeting a few minutes late but otherwise no real trouble. I got a good portion of my documentation submitted and that made me happy, but in order for us to not get shot out of the water by Big Bad City Agency Number 1, we had to have more of it in, so, sho'nuff, Boogie's working the entire weekend. Which isn't really a bad thing, because it's going to be a shitty weekend either way -- my woman's going to Tahoe and the weather here is supposed to be awful (how aboot a foot of snow between tonight and tomorrow?).
So...I get a little chiding from my client ("why wasn't more of this material in sooner?" -- but otherwise no problems, and then I get summoned by "the group" assembling for meeting #2, which is a (mostly) good thing, ie it shows I'm not sitting at home eating Cheese Doodles, milking the lizard and watching I Dream of Genie marathons. Not that there's anything wrong with that...
Meeting #2 goes relatively well, in that I am thoroughly prepared and Ready to Rock (yep, capital R's on the front and back). Of course my opinion is rarely sought, but I was ready nonetheless. Put another way: better to be prepared than wish I was and be unprepared. Sort of like "better to have a gun and not need it than need a gun and not have it." Sort of.
The meeting wrapped up and I hightailed it out of there, as I was hoping to get to another city agency to obtain some paperwork I needed; as I'm waiting in line, I (and everyone else in the place) hears some guy tearing some attitudinal city worker a new one because she wouldn't let him pay off the City's towing charges (um, his car got, like, towed) and he needed to have his mother sign and return some document (the car was in her name). Apparently, after reaming out said city worker, he wanted -- and requested from her -- the fax number to get the signed document submitted but the city worker -- we'll call her Attitudina -- was having none of it. He asked her "Okay, can you give me the fax number so I can have the paper signed and returned right now?" Her response: "Sorry, I forgot the number and can't recall where I wrote it down." He walked away muttering (loudly enough for everyone in the place to hear) "Bitch." Which was a bad move because she, much like the rest of the city staff in that building, is black, and he, and I would guess, his mom, are white. So he took a bad situation and made it lots, lots worse.
And stuck leaving, without getting the fax number and without resolving the situation.
City workers 1, White Dude 0.
It took all I could to restrain myself from a) laughing; b) shaking my head; c) feeling badly for this guy; and d) not telling the woman working with me and printing the paperwork I needed once I got to the head of the line that she was slow, stupid and inefficient. In other words, (and I wished I could have said this to the car-was-towed guy): sometimes you get a lot, lot farther with honey than with vinegar. And sometimes flipping someone the bird, while a feelgood, doesn't get the job done.
Nuff said.
Sooooo....I wrap up my business at City Agency #2, head on over to City Agency #3 when I notice...my cell phone's about to die. Since I went to sleep earlier than most librarians last night, I forgot to charge the bastage so by this afternoon it was beeping and chirping and letting me know it was roughly three minutes from shut-off. So I braved the four blocks from City Agency #2 to a nearby Verizon store, with a middle eastern saleswoman who, of course, wanted to sell me a replacement battery -- that I would need to go home and CHARGE before it could be USED -- so that was a complete waste of time...although I liked her perfume, it reminded me of my other half. Then I had a thought...go to Radio Shack and see if, by gum, they might have a solution.
So I did...it turns out those freaks with pocket protectors actually sell disposable "emergency" batteries for cell phones. Honest to god, there actually is a product for the market that is relatively inexpensive, useful, and does its job efficiently (not to mention saving one's ass). I bought this one: http://www.radioshack.com/product.asp?catalog%5Fname=CTLG&product%5Fid=23-701 and it worked like a charm. I had a half-dozen calls to make (two to my other half, dontcha know) and it slipped onto the bottom of the phone and worked perfectly. Granted, it's not going to win any beauty awards, and it's sort of awkward to use, but hot damn, it saved me because I had two or three business calls to make and having a cell-phone beeping at me while on the phone with Client A, Client B or even Client M would have been less-than-ideal. So I whole-heartedly recommend those cheapo use-and-toss cell-batteries. If you want to get me a bunch, I'll give you my address. More importantly, that's one of the few items Radio Shack sells for which I actually have a use and would be willing to walk out of their store with a Radio Shack bag in tow.
Indeed, you learn something new every day.
So here I am, poking through e-mails, navigating about a foot of papers and counting down the hours til my next foray through the snow to the winter wonderland known as my office. And missing my other half as she parties, gambles, skis and lodges (well, parties, gambles and lodges) in Tahoe. It's a short week coming up, though, as she's winding her way into NYC at the tail end of the week, so I guess I could be in worse shape. I'm just glad she's not in this weekend, because I know it'd be a lot harder to get anything (productive) done knowing she was occupying my bed without me being there. Reminds me of a Billy Joel song called "Temptation:"
It's time for me to be on my way I know
I've got business to conduct and I've got places to go
But I can't help looking at her sleeping instead
Another morning I'll have trouble climbing out of this bed
Because...she's such a temptation.
Love when Billy Joel puts things in perspective, perfectly.
In either case, I'm in for an early night, as the temperature in NYC is dropping into the single digits and I don't plan on losing any of my extremities to hypothermia just yet. For the most part, I'll hang with a friend (we've been talking about hitting a bar on the East Side for about a month now), get in earlyish, fire up a movie and then get to sleep by one. In the meantime, of course, I could always find other things to do if I wanted to stay home, but what would I do?
I'm not into eating Cheese Doodles and I don't do I Dream of Genie marathons.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
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