a black trunk

There is a gossip writer for the NY Post who blabs on about people and events daily and always ends her columns with "only in NY kids, only in NY". That pretty much sums up my day.
I am on the third night in a row of not falling asleep until 0700. I lay awake praying for sleep sometimes getting up to use the restroom or get on the computer but most of the time just laying motionless hoping for my brain to shut off and my body to fall. That feeling right before a deep sleep, when you feel it coming and welcome it with open arms or fight it when it is not appropriate to sleep. The two days prior it didn't really matter what time I awoke as there were no plans for the day. Today however, I had commitments with a busy week following. I awoke in a nightmarish sweat at 0900 as a huge bee was in my hair. I fell back asleep for forty minutes not restfully but light slumber. I brushed my teeth and washed my face. The clock was not my friend when it came to getting across town to walk the dog. I consider to take a cab in order to keep my commitment to Willy but stopped for a triple latte or what I refer to as my savior these days.
I hoped in a cab and actually made some phone calls and returned some emails as the cab crept across Central Park. I arrived ten minutes late to the lovely greeting of some one who didn't care what time it was, he was just happy to see me. We walked in the NY chill for an hour and then spent some time cuddling.
i walked up ten blocks to the paper store to purchase some additional wrapping paper and talked myself into spending the $8 for a cab ride home versus 45 minutes via public transport. I could maximize my sleep time prior to the next commitment. I got home and made a piece of toast with peanut butter to quite the tummy before laying down with my eye mask on and alarm set. In two hours, I got one. I'll take it. I arose to get into the shower and get ready to get to BJ's for my first serving gig in two months. I got there early, enough time to order a triple latte. I wasn't hungry, I just did my work. It was super busy and I was running my ass off.
I helped a group of people that wanted to eat without a table. I didn't want to but felt bad when my manager wanted me too. My gut was correct as they bolted on their check $35 out of my tips for that bullshit. I continued to get table after table and in moment of calmness took a look around. I was out of the swing of things and this waitressing was exhausting. I used to be a rock star, helping out the other girls. Tonight I was being asked for help. I also took a moment to realize I had new love handles in my Classic tee.
I walked to the bar to get some drinks and came back to find another table skipped out on me. FUCK!!! Are you kidding me? Who does that bullshit as an adult? I was immediately on the defense and went to ask every table for a credit card. Do you realize how bad that makes you look as a waitress? I was depressed, all this work for nothing. The last table I had were NYPD and they were ready to find my check cutters and take them down. We discussed this with great length as they bought me a post shift beer.
As I was counting out my money and paying everyone but myself, I was on the phone to Beth to find out that they are not leaving the country as Drew has lost his passport. I am not dog walking tomorrow...more money lost.
I usually treat myself to a cab after a long night of waitressing but couldn't justify it tonight. And what do I have to get home for? To lay awake and wait for day light? So I began walking. East on 31st Street towards the 6.
What is great about NY is the things people leave on the sidewalk for pick up. Mind you, we have no dump. You could literally furnish your house from items left on the sidewalk. I investigate things every so often and wonder what the hell I would really do with it. I am using my book shelve with delight for over a year now!
There is a black trunk with brass latches and brass corners, it intrigues me. I look inside, just plywood. I inspect the outside to see that it is in good condition considering it's age of forty years or so. I pick it up and start carrying it with me. My $95 dinner in one hand and the 1'x1'x3' trunk in the other. I turn up Park Avenue and enter the subway station. I wait for several minutes with my trunk on the bench. I board the train and sit next to some bums. They comment on my trunk and my dinner. I have my ipod in but can here them. I acknowledge with a "ya right" and a smile. I get off at 86th to catch the cross town bus. I get off here instead of 116th because it is my old neighborhood and I feel safe here. I didn't want to wait for the bus in Spanish Harlem with my trunk. Ten minutes later the bus pulls up. I am the only person on the block. I remind myself of Pattington Bear with his suitcase at the train. I board the bus much to the amusement of the bus driver. I cross the park and get off at CPW. I walked down the subway stairs to catch the B uptown. I am on the only one of the platform. Five minutes later the train comes. I board a some what busy car. I sit down my trunk and look ahead. A gentleman looks at my trunk and gives me a knowing smile. I shrug my shoulders a little proud of my find. I stare at it wondering what I am going to put inside. I decide it will be blankets and old photos and it will sit next to my dinning table. I watch guy for a bit as he is reading. He is not American, he is kind of cute actually.
There have been many times when I wish that someone cute would please, please get off at my stop and make witty banter with me. It never happens and if they do get off at the same stop they or I rush off to the next leg of the journey.
He earmarked his book which made him chuckle during the ride and got off at my stop. He commented about my trunk, I told him I found it on the streets. I ask him what he was reading. A French book he said in a French accent. So we walked for a block and talked. Then I sat down my trunk and he asked for my number. I said yes. Because if I can find treasure on the streets at midnight, I might find something on the subway home.