At The Impound Lot

There comes a time in every reps term where we get towed. Like it or not its destiny. You and the impound lot were meant to be together.

Its another one of my favorite hundred degree weather days. As usual I am in a fabulous suit with pumps, sweating like I'm filming a commercial for Nike. I'm hobbling along block after block seeing bunions in my future.

I get back to where my car is and its not there. I don't know why but I can't read the signs in NYC. I don't understand what they are trying to say. Do they speak Aramaic at the DMV? You know these punks created this labyrinth so they can issue tickets.

I ask some guy who's pooping his dog where my car could be towed to. He says "one place the impound lot". As luck would have it, on the other side of the city.

At the time I am poor and can't believe its going to cost me $350 to get my car back. I might also mention the car is not even worth $350...its 12 years old. I decide I can't afford to spend any more money, so a cab is out-of-the-question.

To further punish myself for being such a dumby I pilgrimage some 47 blocks to my destiny. When I arrive I find out that I need to present my ID and then wait for an hour. Why the wait I ask? The cops tell me they have to run a background check and be sure I have no outstanding tickets.

Where is the customer service?

I sit in one of the worlds dirtiest cities in an even dirtier office. The cop behind the desk is staring at my boobs. I notice for some reason that gnats are everywhere. I face the decision to wait out in the heat or hang with the "lord of the flies."

I conclude they are checking me out to see if I am mob connected... as they only do in NY.

It Was The Best Of Times, It Was The Worst Of Times

New York, New York. The Big Apple. Everyone thinks we look super chic and flawless all the time. We just play it off better than the rest. This is the story about a sort of "we're not in Kansas anymore Toto" realization.

Sometimes I can't believe I used to put up with the kind of stuff I did. I just remembered a time when the old NYC rep left, and I added NYC to my existing 6 state territory. I was about a month into it and was not yet making money. I was still very much "California Wussified". Culture shock would be be putting it mildly.

So "Times Were Hard On The Blvd" as the old rap song says....I had debts to pay and it was 100 degrees in the shade...the subways maybe 110. I probably had sweat in inappropriate places..

Recently I had gotten a bit fat (hey I'm honest) and my new platform shoe from Nine West collapsed. I am convinced this is why. The shoes hurt to begin with which should have served as a warning.. but they were hot and cheap so I got them.

I had to spend all day walking around the city on my tippy toe, in this broken shoe, looking like I had survived polio. I just could not afford to buy new shoes.

Its a hard knock life...