MH: Cry into your chicken with garlic sauce.

KM: Exactly.

MH: Right. So I take it you inherited Ida from your predecessor?

KM: Yes, I did. From Amy Jenkins. She’s my supervisor now. Ida’s file is, like, three inches thick.

MH: So it would be safe to say that Ida was considered a troublemaker before you even got there.

KM: Not a troublemaker, no. Not everything in Mrs. Lopez’s file is bad. There are letters in there from administrators saying how much they like her. She’s really—wasreally—very popular—

MH: But not with everyone, clearly.

KM: No. Not with everyone. But the people who didn’t like her were people who, you know, nobody else really liked. Mostly just people like Stuart Hertz—

MH: Go on.

KM: Um. No. Sorry. That’s it. That’s all I had to say.

MH: You were saying something about Stuart Hertzog.

KM: No, I wasn’t.

MH: Yes, you were.

KM: No, I wasn’t. I really wasn’t.

MH: Kate, this is being recorded, remember? I can just play the tape back if you want. Also, Miriam’s taking it down. Miriam, could you read back to me Kate’s last—

KM: Well, I was just saying. You know. How everybody at the paper really, really likes Mr. Hertzog. He’s very, very popular.

MH: Kate. This is Stuart you’re talking about. No one likes Stuart. But what specific problem did Ida have with him?

KM: She won’t tell me. When Mrs. Lopez didn’t consider somebody worthy of her desserts, that was it. They just . . . you know. They were cut off.

MH: And my brother being cut off was what? The last straw?

KM: Well, she’d had a number of verbal warnings, and we’d sent her to, you know, customer service training. Several times. But I guess it never really took. But sometimes it takes more than just a couple of training sessions. Some people just need more time than others. It isn’t right to expect every single employee to be exactly the same. I mean, would you want people to expect you to be exactly the same as every other lawyer in the world, Mr. Hertzog?

MH: Mitch. You can call me Mitch. And, uh, it seems to me like some people already do.

KM: Which is not to say that I don’t completely understand why Mrs. Lopez did what she did, because you know, sometimes you give and you give and you give, and people, they just take, and take, and take, and you start feeling like you’re never going to get anything back, and you wait and wait for something, anything, any kind of acknowledgment, even the tiniest crumb, like, “Yeah, okay, I do want to be with you forever and not just, you know, till someone better comes along, and yeah, I’m an ex-pothead and I can only take it one day at a time, but you, I know I want you in my future.” Only it never comes. And the next thing you know, you’re looking at hellholes in Hoboken for eleven hundred a month and landlords named Ron won’t return your calls . . . er. I mean. What I mean is . . .

MH: I think I get what you mean.

KM: What I meant was, you know. Pie.

MH: Exactly. Pie.

KM: Yes. Mrs. Lopez, she’s human. And you know, clearly, she’d like people to show some appreciation for her hard work. But if people just, you know, take her pie and don’t even say, “Hey, nice pie,” they just scarf it down or whatever—

MH: I could see how that would get to be annoying. I mean, if you’re constantly providing . . . pie. And getting no positive feedback—

KM: Right! And what about your future? I mean, how do you know people are still going to want your pie in the future? Supposing they become a famous rock star or something. People are going to be offering them pie all over the place. If they haven’t promised only to eat your pie, well, where does that leave you?

MH: With perfectly justifiable insecurities over your own self-worth.

KM: Absolutely! See what I mean? I mean, it’s no wonder she cracked. Mrs. Lopez, I mean.

MH: Right. Mrs. Lopez.

KM: So you see what I mean, then? It’s wrong to fire somebody because they had one bad day. And without even any warning. I mean, yes, she was on probation, but I think she still should have gotten a written warning first. Just to let her know. And then if she messed up again, we could have fired her. But to just fire her like that, for not giving someone pie . . .

MH: Oh. Yes. Now I see what you mean. So there was no written warning?

KM: No. Just the verbal. Not that I think theJournal was wrong to fire Mrs. Lopez. I mean, I would never say that. I love working at theJournal . I would never say anything to make theJournal look bad.

MH: Don’t look so panicked, Kate. Nothing you say here is going to get back to your employer.

KM: Yeah, but, I mean, the T.O.D.—I mean, Amy. She’s your brother’s fiancée.

MH: She’s not here.

KM: But . . . Never mind.

MH: What you’re saying is that in your opinion, the firing of Ida Lopez wasn’t justified.

KM: That’s not what I said. That’s not what I said at all. Is that what I said?

MH: You said—excuse me, Miriam—It’s wrong to fire somebody because they had one bad day.

KM: Well, it is. And okay, Mrs. Lopez had a bunch of bad days. But only because bad people—

MH: Like my brother.

KM: Oh my gosh. Is that the time? Really? Because I have to go.

MH: Go?

KM: Yes. I have to meet my broker.

MH: Your broker?

KM: My real-estate broker. See, I’m looking for an apartment, and it’s kind of, you know, urgent that I find a place soon, because right now I’m, like, staying on my friend Jen’s—I told you about Jen—well, I’m staying on her couch, but she and her husband, they’re trying to have a baby, so I need to get out of there, and I was supposed to see this place last night but the broker never showed. But then she called and said if I could meet her at eleven this morning she’d let me in to see the place and so I really have to go, or if I can’t go now I need to call her and see if I can meet her after work.

MH: Uh. Yeah. I guess . . . I guess we’re through here. Maybe you could leave your contact information with Anne, so if I have any follow-up questions—

KM: Oh, sure. Thanks. It was nice to meet you. I hope I didn’t say anything—I mean, I didn’t mean to say anything bad about theJournal . Or your brother. I’m sure he’s, you know. A very nice person.

MH: (Indecipherable) Don’t worry about it. I’ll show you the way out.

Hi, you’ve reached the voice mail of Jen Sadler. At the tone, please leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye!

(Tone)

Jen! It’s Kate! Oh my God, you are never going to believe—no, I’m sorry. I don’t have any spare change. Anyway, I went to that meeting this morning, you know, at Hertzog Webber and Doyle, and I—No, I really don’t have any spare change, I’m so sorry. What was I saying? Oh, yeah. I met his brother—you know the T.O.D’s fiancée—his brother—and oh my God, he’s so cute . . . I can’t believe I’m saying something like this about a lawyer . . . let alone a relative of Stuart Hertzog’s—Look, here, this is all I’ve got. Take it. Go ahead. Take it. Oh, my God, I’m not sure this is the best neighborhood, and I don’t know where the realtor is, and—No, I’m sorry, I gave all my money to that guy over there. Sorry. I—Oh, here’s Paula, thank GOD. I’ll call you later. Tell the T.O.D. I’ll be back by noon. If I’m not knifed by a crackhead first.

(Click)

Journal of Kate Mackenzie

Oh my God, that apartment was so hideous, I would rather sleep on Jen’s couch for the rest of my life than set foot in a place like that ever, ever again. What is WRONG with this city? It’s like they penalize you if you’re single and can’t afford to pay two grand a month for decent housing. Like it’s not enough of a stigma, not being in a romantic relationship. No, they have to make it a thousand times worse by making every studio apartment in the city be next door to an OTB and look out over an air shaft.

And oh my God, what did I say to Mitchell Hertzog? It’s like I had diarrhea of the mouth, or something, I just kept talking and talking. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I mean, like I don’t have enough to worry about without jeopardizing my job, going around, saying the paper fires people unfairly.

It’s just that he was so . . . cute! Why did he have to be so cute??? And nice . . . He wears ties his nieces buy for him!

Oh, why couldn’t he have been an ogre, like his brother?

Wait a minute . . . he is. He IS an ogre, like his brother. Because what kind of person works for a place like that, a place that takes the side of corporate giants over poor little pie bakers like Mrs. Lopez? What kind of person would work for a place like that?

I know he’s going to tell the T.O.D. what I said. Okay, well, maybe he won’t—And I don’t remember exactly what I said, anyway. Maybe I didn’t say anything so bad. . . .

But somehow or other she’s going to find out, and I’m going to get fired, and it will be all my own fault, and oh my God, I HATE lawyers, they ruin EVERYTHING for EVERYONE and oh, why did he have to be so cute?


To: Dolly Vargas <dolly.vargas@thenyjournal.com>

Fr: Mitchell Hertzog <mitchell.hertzog@hwd.com>

Re: Kate Mackenzie

I Googled her, but got nada. What do you know about her? Spill it. You owe me, remember?

Mitch


To: Mitchell Hertzog <mitchell.hertzog@hwd.com>

Fr: Dolly Vargas <dolly.vargas@thenyjournal.com>

Re: Kate Mackenzie

Mitch, darling, what a surprise! How ARE you? It’s been ages! I don’t think I ever did thank you properly for getting Julio out of that little jam with Immigration . . . goodness, it pays to be friends with a lawyer, doesn’t it?