The phone rang last night.
“MOV? Is that you?” the familiar voice asked.
“Yes,” I replied, wondering why she was calling at 10 PM.
“Did you look at your calendar? Do you know what day it is?”
I knew exactly where this conversation was headed. “Boss, duh. Mid-November. I was actually expecting your phone call yesterday, or the day before.”
“You’ll do it then?”
“Boss, you know I am loyal and all, but I do have my New Better-Paying Top Secret Job to worry about.”
“MOV, this is important. I need you. We need you. The high-end kitchen store needs you.”
“Geesh, fine, I’ll do it. I’ll be there by nine.”
I show up at nine on the dot. That’s a lie. Queen Virgo shows up at quarter till. She paces in front of the store, waiting for the opportunity to do what she was born to do.
The Boss greets me with her keys in hand.
“Thank God! Thank you, MOV, for doing this! I can’t even tell you how much it means to me.” She smiles wide, teeth like a Colgate ad.
“Boss, just one thing. You need to back off. Let me do what I came to do.”
She nods her head with the reverence due Popes and Presidents.
“You are the only one we even considered for … you know.”
I walk to the kitchen. I put on my apron. I get to work.
Six hours fly by, a blur of food processors missing parts and too many All-Clad pans. When my time is up, Queen Virgo surveys the scene.
Christmas chocolate samples line up on the top shelf. Waffle irons have their cords neatly tucked around their bases. Espresso paper cups are stacked in pristine rows.
“Are you finished already?” The Boss gasps.
I take a dish towel and do one quick swipe across the Vita-Mix blender. “Yes,” I confirm, “I’m done.”
“Thank you, MOV, thank you! The kitchen looks so great!”
If my New Better-Paying Top Secret Job doesn’t work out, at least I can take comfort in the knowledge that the high-end kitchen store has a one-day job for me in the middle of November: kitchen organizer.