Lizz Lund - Mina Kitchen 01 - Kitchen Addiction! (28 page)

“Oh,”
said Bauser.  “Since when did you become the HR rep?”

“Since
they merged Mina’s position with mine.  And part of your IT duties.” Lee smiled
again.

“Wait
a minute,” Bauser said.  “You’re going to do my job, Mina’s and yours?” he
asked.

“Well,
uh, no.  Not really.  Howard said just portions of them,” Lee said.

“Well,
I hope you’re getting paid portions of our paychecks then,” Bauser said.

“Well,
no.  But I’m promised a big raise at my review next November.”

“Huh. 
Good luck with that.”

Bauser
tucked the papers under his arm and gave me and Norman and Jim the high sign to
exit.  We all turned together and walked down the hall.

“Just
make sure to tell the Unemployment rep it’s a ‘mutual resignation’,” she sang
out after us.

 Jim
whined.  “C’mon, Jim,” Bauser said, and we shuffled into the elevator lobby.

“What’s
the matter with him?” Norman asked.

“He
needs to let loose, pronto,”

It
was at that moment that we heard Lee gloating around the corner to someone
about having ‘termed those losers’.

We
looked at each other.  Jim wagged his tail pleadingly.  Bauser motioned to Jim
to follow him, and marched back down the hallway and made a right turn toward
Lee’s former cube.  Norman and I followed.  We reached the outside corner of
her old cube, which it was undoubtedly, judging by the state of packed files on
the floor around her desk.  Bauser pointed. “Here, boy.”  Jim gratefully and
dutifully obeyed and emptied both tanks in the middle of Lee’s cube.  Then we
high-tailed it for the stairs and exited pronto.

Seven
flights later, we let out a collective whoop. Even though Bauser and I realized
it was ridiculous for us to do so.  Being unemployed and looking for a job
stinks.  But working at EEJIT really stank.  Especially after the poo-poo
pyro.  I might not have been sure what was in front of me, but I sure knew what
was behind me.  And it greatly resembled what Jim left behind in Lee’s cube.

Norman
took his papers and dutifully
put them in an appropriate section in his backpack.  Bauser and I looked at
ours and contemplated hurling them in the trash bin next to us.

“No,”
Norman said.  “Listen to me.  You will fill this out.  And you will await
your call from your Unemployment Rep,” he said.

Bauser
and Jim and I collectively gulped.  I’d never seen Norman adamant about
anything, except maybe the end of the world.  Maybe that was why he was adamant
now.  “Okay,” Bauser and I agreed.

“So
what now?” Bauser asked.  Jim barked at PizzaNow!.

“Jim’s
right,” Norman said.  “We need a slice and a beer. I’m buying.”

Jim
barked in agreement and followed Norman, dragging Bauser up the entrance
steps.  I shrugged and followed.  What the hey?  We all know everyone at
PizzaNow! loves Jim.

“Hey,
Jimmy boy,” Joey sang out from behind the order counter.

Maggie
cried and came out from behind, leaving a line of waiting customers in limbo. 
“Who’s my boy? Huh?” she squealed, hugging Jim.  Jim tried to reciprocate and
fell over.  “See, see? This is what happens to neglected pets!” Maggie shouted
at the line of customers.  Sheepish looks abounded amongst pet owners who had
left pets alone all day long, with nary a radio on.  Maggie seized the
opportunity.  “Guilt relief here,” she said, holding up her collection jar for
the animal shelter, next to the check out register.  Various hands released
small piles of change.  Could she sell or what?  And she wasn’t even from Jersey.

Maggie
winked at us. “Pretty good, huh?  Hey, what brings you here?  Late lunch? Early
dinner?” she asked.

“A
wake,” Bauser said.

“We’re
celebrating,” Norman corrected.

“Hungry?”
I ventured.

“Huh?”
Maggie asked.

“We
lost our jobs,” Norman explained.

“Oh
my GOD! Oh my GOD!” Maggie shouted.  “Here, take this table. HERE!  Natalie –
WATER! HERE! NOW!”

Norman
held up his hands in effort to
stop her flurry of waitressing.  “Look, it’s really okay.  We’re not that
upset, honestly,” he said.

“UPSET?
UPSET! OF COURSE YOU’RE UPSET! YOU’RE IN SHOCK!” Maggie screamed, and went off
in a stream of Sicilian phrases I wasn’t quite sure about but pretty much
guessed meant MAYDAY.

We
sat down around the table, after we found a chair for Jim, just to make sure he
didn’t get knocked over by passing patrons or appear out of place.  And also to
make sure a passing patron didn’t find himself suddenly relieved of his order. 
Natalie rushed over with a water pitcher and a bowl for Jim.  Then she set us
up, throwing a slice of lemon in each of our glasses, and passing around some
menus.  She finished by taking a doggie biscuit out of her apron pocket for
Jim.

“Okay,
okay, you take all the time you want.  I’ll bring over a small pie, just to get
you started.  On the house,” she added, patting Jim on the head, then rushing
back toward the kitchen.

“Wow,
they really like Jim here,” Norman said.

“We
eat here a lot,” Bauser said.

“I
thought you mostly ordered take out?” I asked.

Bauser
shrugged.  “Jim likes to get out on weekends.”

Natalie
came back with a small pie – 8 large slices with everything on it – and a bowl
of kibble.  Jim stood up on his chair and wagged his tail hard in appreciation,
and then fell toward the pie.  Bauser caught him.  Natalie patted Jim on the
head. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

We
said thanks, too, and began to tuck in as we scanned the menus. When I looked
up,  the pie was almost gone.  “I’m really surprised how hungry we are, considering,”
I wondered out loud.

Norman
swallowed.  “Disappointment does
that.”

“Oh,”
I said, thinking that was probably as good reason a reason as any for
explaining the increasing national reports on obesity.

Maggie
came over with a pitcher of beer.  Bauser looked at it suspiciously.  She set
the pitcher down on the table, along with frosted beer mugs.  “Look, I know you
like your Krumpthf’s,” she said to him, “but that stuff is oogy.  It has leaves
and twigs in it.  Besides, this is on the house, too” she added.  Bauser looked
a little put out.

“Well,
okay.  Thanks.  Just so long as it’s nothing fancy,” he said warily.

“Nope;
just plain old beer,” she said.

Wow,
real beer. Without twigs in it.  I started to feel a little happier.

“Natalie
will come back for your orders real soon. I gotta get back to the take out
counter.” And she rushed back as the line of customers backed up into Chestnut Street.

“Wow. 
That was real nice,” Norman said, pouring out the lager.

We
looked at each other.  Norman was really becoming quite the drinker.  Huh.  Jim
thumped his tail.

“Well,
here’s to us,” Norman said, and we clunked our mugs together.

We
studied the menus we’d read a thousand times before, and placed our orders with
Natalie.  Norman ordered Lancaster Lasagna (without the ham), Bauser ordered
the Meat! Meat! Meat! & More Meat! Personal Pie! and I ordered the Triple
Decker Eggplant Parmesan.  Our entrees arrived, and after Natalie served us,
she replaced Jim’s kibble bowl with a small bowl of Whoof-O dog food.  Bauser also
fed Jim some of his steak and kidneys off of his plate, carefully excluding any
bacon, ham or sausage that would be bad for doggies.

We’d
just polished off our plates, when Natalie returned.  “Some dessert?”

Bauser
tried to hold in a burp.

“Uh,
I think we’re kind of full,” Norman said, looking around.  Bauser’s burp
burped, I nodded and Jim yawned.  Jim was right: it was definitely nap time.

Natalie
smiled.  “Sure, sure.  After a big shock like that, it’s normal for your
appetites to be a little off,” she said.  “But you’ll be back on your feet in
no time.  You’ll see.” She smiled at us and hustled away with our empty
plates.  I rolled my eyes.  If this was considered peckish, maybe my catering
disorder might actually fit into Lancaster.

Norman
reached for the check.  Bauser
went for his wallet.  I started to rummage through my pocketbook.  Norman held a hand up to both of us, and waved away our contributions.

“Wow,
thanks, Norman, really,” I said.

“Yeah,
thanks a lot.  This is really decent of you, man,” Bauser said.

“Like
I said, my treat,” Norman replied.  “Besides, I didn’t think anyone could
handle meeting Vito’s niece on an empty stomach – especially after Howard’s
tantrum.”

“Oh
my gosh, I almost forgot,” I said.

“I
didn’t,” Bauser replied and helped himself to the last piece of pizza. Norman shrugged and we got up to pay at the register.  Joey rang us out.

“Thank
you. That’ll be $46.46,” he said.  Norman opened his wallet and pulled out a
hundred dollar bill.  Joey blanched.  I blanched.  Bauser blanched.  Even Jim
looked a little piqued.  But maybe that was maybe because he was still
digesting his share of the Meat! Meat! Meat! & More Meat! Personal Pie!

“Oh
jeez, hey, I’m not allowed to change anything higher than a fifty, pal,” Joey
explained.

“Not
a problem,” Norman said.  “Keep the change.  It’s a tip.”

Joey
brightened up considerably.  “Hey, pal, thanks! You’re alright! I’ll make sure
Natalie and Maggie get covered.”

I
rolled my eyes.  While I knew Norman could probably afford this generosity, I secretly
hoped I didn’t share a happy hour with him any time soon.  I really didn’t want
to get shamed into a 150% tip.  Especially now that I had joined the masses of
the unemployed.

We
yawned and waddled out of air-conditioned PizzaNow! and out onto the furnace
that was Chestnut Street.  The heat blasted up at us from the sidewalk like the
inside of a PizzaNow! pizza oven. The sky had become a hazy shade of dinge,
just like any other U.S. city during a hazy U.S. summer.  Except that Lancaster sparkles a bit; it doesn’t do dinge.

Jim
panted hard.  Bauser’s and Norman’s glasses were fogged up.  We turned and made
a blind lurch toward the new police station at Chestnut and Prince streets.  We
entered the lobby and were greeted by giant blasts of chilled air and gigantic
black granite columns, floors and an elevated black granite reception desk. 
Granite? In a police station?  This is how nice Lancaster is.  Who wouldn’t
want to get carted off the street into a grand hotel-esque lobby in the middle
of a heat wave?  We stood in front of the reception desk, and Norman shoved me
forward in front of the great and powerful Officer Du Jour.  The female police
officer on duty looked down at me.  The main thought scampering across my
brewski and Italian feast fed brain was:  surrender Dorothy.

“Uh,
hi,” I tried, “Um, we’re here to see Officer Appletree. Is he on duty?”

“Officer
Appletree, huh?  That’s Detective Appletree, now.  Just one minute,” the Great
and Powerful police officer said and ducked behind the granite wall.  We heard
muted voices and some Mhming.  She popped back up.  “He’s here.  Said he was
expecting you,” she said, and darted back down again.  Expecting me?  I hadn’t
even told her who I was yet.  Yeeshkabiddle.

We
shuffled around the lobby.  Jim yawned and sprawled out in the middle of the
granite lobby, parting pedestrian traffic.  Which was a little awkward for some
of the handcuffed folk.  The officer popped back up.  “Is that your pet? Or a
service animal?” she barked.

“It’s
okay, Shawna; he’s handicapped,” Appletree answered, appearing in front of us.

“Huh. 
Okay…”

Appletree
motioned us to follow him – quickly – past Shawna’s watchful post.

“Hey,
wait! He’s not supposed to be handicapped: one of them is,” Shawna yelled after
Appletree.

“We’re
working on it,” Appletree called back.

“Just
you make sure he don’t tinkle on them granite tiles!”

Well,
it was at nice that she was looking after our taxpayers’ interior design
investments, after all.  Then again; we’re in Lancaster…

Appletree
led us down a pristine non-granite hall and through some double-doors that
opened onto a typical office space:  a gerbil’s nightmare of cubicle mazes. 
With the exception that each of the cubes were inhabited by combinations of
uniformed or plainclothes police officers.  At this particular time, it was
mostly uniformed officers.  Like an army of dark blue ants.

Even
though I’ve never done anything illegal in my life, with the exception of
aiding and abetting Vito and Mrs. Phang with their pharmaceutical sample ring,
being around this many uniformed police officers made me nervous.  I blinked
and swallowed and promised myself I would never tell Trixie about this. 
However nervy this many uniforms made me, I was pretty sure she would have an
equal and exponentially opposite pheromone reaction.