the problem with the letter 'B'

If you're an outta-towner in New York City,you are instantly more special when you go to the Bloomingdale's on 59th and Lexington.

How special? So special that if you show proof of ID, they give you an 11% discount all. day. long. Even better (or the TRAP, I might say) is that when you spend over $200.00 and bring your receipt back to Customer Service, they give you a FREE gift.

Ive been eligible to receive two free gifts throughout my stay in this glorious city but the one of significance is the first one I got. A Key chain with a Big ol 'B' for BLOOMINGDALE'S on it. Not too clunky, not too flashy, just perfect. The two holes in the letter 'B' even allow for perfect hangin' on our impromptu Key Rack, or shall I say, 4 nails sticking out of the wall.

Minor problem though. I live with a girl named BRETT, and her name also starts with a B. You would think, 'okay that's fine, I mean clearly its a B but that's not reason enough for her to grab the keys just because her name starts with a B'. But no. My roommate BRETT also went to Bloomingdale's, used her St. Louis ID, and also received the Golden Free Gift of the B for BLOOMINGDALE'S key chain. Why would someone get the SAME exact key chain that their roommate already has and not take the other gift, a free BAG,instead, you ask? YEA, SO DO I.

In fact Ive asked myself that question not once, not twice, but FOUR times. In particular, today. When the City is at its hottest, and you just tripped walking up at the stairs at Grand Central Station, isnt comforting to know you can always walk a few blocks home and hide out in the comfort of your dark, air conditioned apartment? Nope, not I. I got out of the subway, fell up the stairs, ran to Duane Reade to buy Dish Detergent and it wasn't until I got to my door did I realize that I didn't have my keys. BRETT must of mistakingly taken them this morning.

To make matters worse, my phone died 30 minutes earlier so I had no form of contacting my roommates who's numbers I have yet to learn by heart. I decided I had two choices, 1. make the best of it or 2. make the worst of it.

I chose option number 1. Me, along with my skinned knee, bruised ego, and heavy container of dish soap walked my happy self 10 blocks over to Chipotle in 95 degree heat. I realized I'd have my tacos and guaclamole (which I didn't have the night before, thankyouverymuch) and maybe some magic would happen that Id come home later and they'd open the door. If not, I was gonna go see The Ugly Truth.

Magic happened two tacos in. I attempted to turn my phone on to try to get Brett's number one more time and all of a sudden I had two sticks of battery, enough to call Brett who knew exactly why I was calling when she answered. In the end, she was apologetic, I was happy with my tacos, and she texted me with " You are my most understanding friend :) " ain't that truth.

So in the end, my friends, when life hands you lemons, go to Chipotle.