The Second Law of Thermodynamics

Today, when she saw me the woman said, "You're still working here?" The restaurant is empty again tonight. The Reds are kicking some Yankees' asses. It's cold. Everybody is somewhere else.

I say, "Well, you know. Gotta pay the rent. Not that I love it, but..."

She says, "I told you, don't stay here." I say, "I know." She says, "They are going to shut down the place." I say, I know.

Two days before (three actually, it's late already), I met that woman for the first time while she was drinking her Latte on the terrace. My boss was out of sight. She told me I was a nice person. I grinned stupidly (I'm very good at it, too) and asked her if she wanted more sugar. She said she wanted to tell me a secret. I said, OK, why not? Strangest things happen in this city. I'm good at that too, keeping secret. She said, "You know your boss has a problem, right?" Immediately, I think: "Booze." Because, I've had the occasion to meet enough alcoholics to spot 'em just like that, and on my second night's work I put my boss in the borderline category. So to the woman, I say, instead: "Yes, he has no patrons." Because, borderline or not, he is still my boss and I owe him not to have to eat yellow plantines from the Chinese downstairs to stop the hunger for the night. Plus he makes the best crepes I've eaten in years.

The woman was an artist. Her spoon was creating a nice little beige whirlpool in her white cup. She let her cigarette consume itself for a while, looking at me. Then she looked around before telling me that my boss was a con artist. That I shouldn't stay here. That the police already came here several time.

I didn't feel too well. At the end of the street stood the Empire State Building, its walls almost the same color as the woman's latte. Because the silence has been long, I said that I had mixed feelings regarding the police. She told me that she was warning me because I was nice and she did not want me to have problems.

I said, Thank you. I said, I appreciate. I wondered what it would be like to be up on the observatory of the Empire, right now. I thought that next time I was up there, I would have to try and locate that street. The umbrellas and that terrace that looked so nice just a few minutes ago.

She said, Don't tell anybody I told you that. I promptly agreed."Of course." She stood up and paid for her coffee. While she was looking for a one dollar bill for my tip, I told her to forget it. I told her that she already gave me a tip. She smiled.

So tonight, my boss is off somewhere, maybe having a beer, maybe making some errand. Possibly both. And the woman comes to use our bathroom and she thanks me because the other day I helped her unload her car of tons of bags containing her creations. She says, "So, you still here?" To which I reply that I still have a rent to pay. When she comes out of the bathroom, she says, "You know, your boss is going to receive an eviction notice tomorrow. He hasn't paid his rent for eight months." I tell her that I'm still looking for another job. "I hope he does not owe you any money," she asks. "No," I lie.

After she left I think that the fact that it takes eight months of unpaid rent before you receive an eviction notice is the best piece of news I have heard today.