So when we ordered the New York Times, they only sent half of them. I don’t know if Brian, my assistant, decided to take up a crack habit or what, but when he took his route he didn’t take any of the Times. So then my stash of Times goes to Gary, the other Supervisor. Brian comes back and I’m forced to give him Jama’s Times. Jama comes in and has none. Angela hears about this. I knew that the head of the beast was turning, so I hastily mentioned that Brian might be smoking crack, and also that the missing keys incident wasn’t my fault because Luis is drunk. She turns on me and starts screaming that it was all my fault and I needed to watch the fairies closer. These are all adults, mind you, and Brian is on the fucking staff. I called the bank to see how much money I had to see how long I could survive without a job. Jon was being nice to me for once, so I confided to him that if that troll yelled at me again, I would walk, and that he should plan accordingly. Gary started whining about how there were rubber bands all over the floor. Honestly. I finally get sent out. I run into Jama in a dark alley. He asks me how I am, I tell him that Angela is a crazy raving bitch, and that I want a new job. He says that I am such a sweet girl and its really too bad that they treat me this way. Very sweet. And Beautiful. So very beautiful, as he advances toward me with a strange look in his eye. In frustration, I shriek the word, “FUCK!” at him, and walk back to my car. He looks bewildered as I drive away. I stop off at 33rd and Blaisdell to check an apartment address. The main door is broken, so I wander in. Its dingy, dimly lit and trash is strewn everywhere, like the Brooklyn slum apartments you see in movies. On the second floor, I ran into two homies leaning on the entryway, smoking out of a light bulb. They gave me a visual once over and asked me how I was doing. I told them I wasn’t in the mood for this right now. The taller one said he could hook me up and I could repay him by sucking his dick. There was a folding table propped against the wall where they were standing. I asked him if it was his, he said yes, I said well its mine now, and walked out of the building. I called work so I could get punched out. Jon did so, and asked if they could expect me back on Thursday. At least I got my point across.