Why You Should Never Eat In Cheap Retaurants

It was 14 degrees. At least that's what the neon sign on Lexington Avenue said. It was the dark of winter in New York, and I had just gotten off the 86 crosstown bus, home from working at a fish restaurant I hated. A stray dog stood in front of the bus as I got off and the bus dispatcher said he kept getting on the buses only to have each of the drivers take him off again. He was dirty and sad looking. Like many of the men I've met. I took him home. Like many of the men I've met.

I had a Yorkie who hated the big mutt immediately. I named him Panda because he looked like one. My dog's name was "Selfish and Spoiled", but I called him "My Boyfriend" for short.

I took Panda to a vet and the doctor discovered its previous owner had cut one of the dog's ears in HALF. With scissors. So I had him sewed up. I paid for his shots.

When I got home the restaurant called and fired me.

I had complained that the chefs kept throwing monkey dishes at our heads if we didn't pick up our orders fast enough. They also retrieved food from the floor and put it back on the stoves. But I was fired.

I had six dollars in the bank. I sat in a chair and cried while that mutt crawled up on my lap, put one paw on each of my shoulders and licked my tears. My own dog went to the kitchen and nosed his food dish around. To remind me that we could no longer afford dog food.

I had to find a new owner for the stray so I began walking my neighborhood with a big black and white mutt with half his head bandaged. One of those endless days, someone tapped me on the back and I turned around and saw an old woman dressed in multiple layers of clothes, endless accessories, a lack of makeup and frizzed out hair. I'd never seen her before and thought she might have been homeless.

I said "yes?" She said, "turn around." I turned back around and she took her right hand and made some chicken scratching movements on my upper back. When she stopped she said, "Don't worry, everything will work out. It will be fine."

I thanked her and started to walk away, relieved she hadn't asked for money I didn't have. But it occurred to me I hadn't asked her WHY everything was going to be okay so I turned back. She was nowhere to be seen. I lived on a very wide avenue, and there wasn't a lot of foot traffic on any given day because that part of the upper East side, by Gracie Mansion, was not accessible by subway, only bus or taxi. She had just vanished into thin air. And I never saw her again in the ten years I lived there after that incident.

The next day as I ONCE AGAIN walked with Panda, a woman came out of the flower shop on our street. She asked me why the dog was bandaged and I told her the story. She said she wanted a dog but her husband didn't and wouldn't let her get one. She called her husband and persuaded him to meet me and Panda later that day. When we arrived, Panda peed on the guy's shoes. The wife said, THIS IS OUR DOG!! The husband laughed and gave in and they took him. With a bandaged head.

I kept in touch with them for about a year. They kept Panda as the dog's name. They also discovered what my own vet had missed. That poor dog had 2 cut ears.

I got another job waiting tables not even a week later.

Things always do work out, even if it doesn't feel like it at the time.

And it NEVER feels like it at the time.

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The 5th Day Of Christmas

Me, the last guy I almost married and my dog Kiko. Kiko was an AKC show dog, which explains why he's posing perfectly. That dog knew where his key light was. I did his hair and makeup in case anyone's wondering.

I look so young in this picture I've decided never to look in a mirror again.

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Ex-Boyfriends And Small Dogs Are Both Mental

This picture was taken back in the early 80's, here in California. I had been invited to an ex-boyfriend's house to meet his new girlfriend because men actually think that's something their ex-girlfriends want to do.

And I did.

A chance to judge, to mock, to talk about it later with anyone I could get on the phone, are you kidding me? WHEN DO WE LEAVE?

I was in town from New York and had my dog Kiko with me. My ex had always preferred the dog to me so what else is new.

Kiko loved anything that was as small as he was and breathed. He almost lost his eyes millions of times because he could not resist a cat. Even when they hissed at him, bared their teeth and lifted a paw to strike, Kiko would just look at me plaintively. He was like that kid at the park who can't find anyone to play with.

So we're at the ex's and someone had a baby with them. A tiny, breathing baby. So naturally Kiko went over to say hello.

I interrupt this broadcast for breaking 80's fashion news.

See the inset below of my sister's foot in those white shoes? (The actual picture is the last one in this post) Those sandals were from Giorgio of Beverly Hills. At the time they cost $198, which means they would cost about $895 today. I was with Lindy when she bought them, days before the visit with my ex, and Giorgio's, like many great boutiques, served champagne to their customers as they shopped. Alcohol and shopping go really well together. As do bankruptcy and a low FICO score.I remembered that Lindy had eventually grown tired of the shoes and given them to me. She also did this with an actor named Jack Scalia. As you can see, he was much cuter than the shoes.

It's hard to visualize but those little oval things popping up from the shoe were gold leaves. I emailed Lindy the pictures and asked her if she remembered the shoes. This is what she wrote back:

Of course I remember those shoes!!!! I just forgot that I had given them to you. You're right- they were from Giorgio's because in those days I only shopped in Beverly Hills, had a maid, had facials every ten seconds and full-served my gas tank! Those WERE the days. Did I mention that I had membership to about 1700 gyms and did Karen Voight's class every day which cost more that gym membership anywhere in L.A. in those days?

I only started saving $ when I realized that I wasn't going to live forever.

This is the difference between us. I'm not going to live forever so I double-up on my shopping. This might explain why my sister is richer than I am. But I'll be better dressed in the casket. Stop groaning, you know you were thinking the same thing.

Anyway, end of fashion news, back to the baby and Kiko. The baby, like a cat, was not amused by my dog and started pounding on his head. Babies are mean.

READ MORE - Ex-Boyfriends And Small Dogs Are Both Mental