I spent today interviewing this guy whose mother — a spry 88-year-old — was killed by her grandson in Crown Heights Christmas Eve. (Today’s story here). Apparently after the murder the grandson called 911 and confessed, saying he thought his grandmother was trying to poison him. Everyone in the building said she was an amazing woman, mother and grandmother. Very sad.
I get back to the office, grab some mince pies and champagne and am walking back to my desk when suddenly something comes in contact up against my butt! I’m all shocked and yet out this yell — “Awwgh!” — that probably the whole office can hear.
Whirling around, I see — it’s this poodle some guy had brought in, that had jumped up on me from behind!
“What the hell!” I yell at him, still rather shocked. “Jesus Christ!”
Friggin’ poodles.
Leave a Reply