Subway

Be careful what you touch in the City.

You never know where it's been.

FORK SMASH!

UGH! I hate that stupid job at that stupid store! I HOPE they fire me! Whogivesacrap about those lame managers who can't effectively run a high-profile shop in the heart of the biggest, most impressive, most famous shopping district in the COUNTRY--no--WORLD!

I did NOT come to New York to PLAY. I came to be a STAR.

They OBVIOUSLY have NO idea who they're dealing with.

Coney

...and lug them around ALL DAY!

It Never Ends

Today I was officially hired on as a permanent part-time employee of Nofriendo World Land.

Mr. Williams called me again this afternoon.

And it's about to start raining.

And you know how New Yorkers are about their disasters.

The cover of the AM New York (the free subway paper) this morning was a woman hunched over with her hands in her face and a huge headline, "WHAT WENT WRONG?"

They were referring to the massive train meltdown that happened yesterday due to flooding from that morning's downpour. To read the headline and see that picture though, you'd think the sub-head would be something like,

"Hundreds perish as drops of water fall from sky!"

or "Morning commute turns deadly as subway tunnels fill with water!"

or "Dozens still missing as subway cars float out to sea!"

or "New Yorkers blame weatherman! Scapegoat for commuter delays to be lynched!"

or "And it's Bush's fault!"

And now there's a 90% chance of rain tomorrow. This should be interesting.

Mr. Williams

About two days ago I tried to call my mom on her snazzy new MePhone. I wanted to congratulate her on her recent appointment before the Senate to Duchess of East Cackalakee.

Something went wrong.

Horribly wrong.

Lines were crossed. Something--I don't know what. Never got through to her. But I did get through to somebody else.

Though the connection was bad, I could make out the dulcet tones of a husky black man's voice on the other end.

"Hello? Hello? I can't hear you. Hello?"

That doesn't sound like my mom, I thought.

I decided to hang up and try again.

The connection was better this time. And the black man's voice rang out loud and clear.

"Hello? Hello?"

Confused, I did the only thing that made sense. I said, "Hello? Hello?" back as if the connection was still bad and hung up.

I was really confused now. I tried to make sense of the whole thing and, in doing so--and this is going to sound really REALLY wrong, folks--but in trying to make sense of why a black man was answering my Mom's phone, my first thought was, "Did they give her a servant? It is East Cackalakee..."

Then my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number.

"It may be that guy. Umm...I'll just let him leave a message. Maybe that will clear everything up."

A message was left. Sure enough, it was that guy. He didn't know who I was, but he saw that I tried to call him twice and he wanted to know what I needed. His name was Mr. Williams and his number was ###-###-####.

"I'm NOT going to call this guy just to tell him I dialed the wrong number," I said to the message lady as she asked if I wanted to delete the message. "YES! Get rid of it!" I replied and hit the 7 button.

That was a big mistake.

Since Monday, I have received no less than five phone calls and two more voice mails from Mr. Williams.

"Fork, hi, this is Mr. Williams calling. I saw you called on Monday and was just wondering what you were calling about. Please call me back at--"

"Hello Fork. Just trying to reach you. This is Mr. Williams. Please call me back. You called twice on Monday and I'm not sure what you needed."

Mr. Williams, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. I dialed the wrong number. Leave me alone.

April Showers

At about 6:00 this morning I was wakened by blasts of thunder followed by thirty minutes of absolute torrents of rain.

Then it stopped and it didn't rain a drop for the rest of the day.

I left my apartment and walked to work. There were a couple of little puddles here and there, but nothing major.

I got to work at Nofriendo World Land. The usual morning Gii line in front of the store was really short.

I went inside. There weren't many people there.

I went downstairs.

OH MY GOSH! The break room is flooded!

I suddenly remembered the sound of the waterfall in the stairwell of my old apartment building. That t'weren't no waterfall.

I then got a bunch of emails from folks saying the ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ123456 trains were all down due to flash flooding. Millions were probably drowning in the subway tunnels even as I sat in our damp break room. I checked my Blockberry for news.

TORNADO IN BROOKLYN! END OF THE WORLD EMMINENT!

Not a good day to be out.

But that didn't stop Palooka Mom from galumphing up to me at 2:30.

Palooka Mom: WHY aren't grown-ups allowed to sit on the floor of your store?!

Forky: Excuse me, ma'am?

Palooka Mom: We're not allowed to sit down on the floor! What am I supposed to do while my kid trys out these games?? Why can't I sit down on the floor?

Forky: Well, ma'am, because we don't want anyone getting stepped on--

I couldn't hold back.

Snarky Forky: --and because this is a store. (tilts nose in the air slightly)

Considering it was 96 degrees with 100% humidity, drowed commuters, tornados in the boroughs, and all hell breaking loose, I think I handled that pretty well.

I wonder if she harasses the clerks at Macy's about plopping her caboose their floor.

Harumph.

Oh my Gosh

I just posted the 102nd post of this year!

Something I've Learned

Something I've learned:

I will never dispose of a cup or container of liquid refreshment into an in-store garbage receptacle without having first depleted it of its contents.

That's because I know that somebody is going to have to empty the garbage can. And if it's full of curdled coffee, chances are the goop is going to leak out of the bag and onto the slacks of the poor guy who takes the trash out.

And in New York City...that guy is me.