Whenever spring springs, it always brings out the best in me. I remember years ago, when I just started on my first job in NYC, that trouble reared its ugly head.
It was a beautiful Friday, the day was sunny and bright, the sky was blue, and the air smelled fresh and clean. I was single and looking forward to the weekend. About 11 am, I got my paycheck and decided to go to the First National City Bank to cash it. I took the elevator down, and stepped through the swinging doors and started up 54th street to cross Lexington Avenue. Traffic was somewhat light and I was feeling real good about things.
I started singing in my head and nothing seemed to be in my way, as I climbed the steps to the bank, and went into the revolving door. Then it struck! Trouble! That’s Trouble with a capital “T”, At that point my whole day went down the drain as I enter the same compartment as a crotchety old lady in the revolving doors. As I looked down I thought “Oh my God, what the hell is she doing in here with me,” as I started to tip-toe with my arms stuck straight up in the air so as not to touch her.
If you do not know what Hell is like when raised, if you do not know what disaster pending means, then you do not know this old battle-axe. The old bag goes into a hissy fit that goes over the legal limit for sound. “MY GOD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE IN THIS CITY?? CAN’T A WOMAN GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT GETTING MOLESTED??? At this point I thought that maybe she wasn’t talking about me, because let’s face it; I would never molest an old hag like that.
Well granny sweatpants went on for a while, as I tried to distance myself from the old sea horse, and if it weren’t for the nice rich red glow on my face, I may have gotten away with it.
Try to act innocent in a bank filled with cash checkers. VERY EMBARASSING. Now I have automatic deposit, just to save myself. And a lesson learned: when felling good about the weather, stay inside.
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