Posted: Jun 22, 2008, 8:44 PM CST
Friday, June 20th,
I was called to assist in a “knock down” (disassembling office panels and furniture) for an office building located near the Village in Manhattan. I managed to get an early start on this project. It was a beautiful Friday morning. Well, for the most part. Halfway through the day, I decided to take an early meal break. I picked up a healthy size hero sandwich and a Pepsi from a near by Deli and decided to have my lunch in the back of the delivery truck.
As I sat on the edge of a hydraulic lift at the end of the truck, I couldn’t help but notice the amount of women that were coming in and out of this one office building located on the corner of the street. The entry to this place was part of the building I was working in. One car length in front of me was a custom beige SUV. I have never seen an SUV with gull wing doors before. It looked interesting. The car had an M.D. license plate. I pretty young lady wearing scrubs reached in the car to grab her cell phone. I admit she was pretty but I got a freaky vibe from her. She looked a little too young to be a doctor. When she was done with her call, she closed the door to her car then stood there staring at me. This situation all of a sudden made me feel a little uneasy. From the look on her face, I could tell that there was a lot of dynamics going on. She then turned around and proceeded to walk towards the same office building. Halfway there, she stopped and turned around to look at me as if she wanted to ask me a question then quickly turned and entered the building.
I think the main reason why this place really caught my attention was the way some of these women who, majority were very young, looked before they walked in to this building and the way they looked after they came out. Some of these women would stand in front of the entrance for a while with this hesitant look on there face before walking in. But, what really startled me was how they looked when they came out.
Most of them came out of that building crying, dazed and very much disoriented. Oh, and majority of these women were holding pink slips. Perhaps receipts? My beautiful Friday morning was just beginning to take an unwanted turn.
I asked the guard at the front desk “what is this place”? He said “La Marketa De Carne”. That’s Spanish meaning a meat market. But, in this case, the term is used as a slang meaning “The slaughter house”. The guard also mentioned to me that he never seen the doctor do that before. “You rarely see her out here. She’s like a phantom” I can’t imagine what was going on in her head, the way she was staring at you like that”.
Today is Sunday, June 22 and I am still feeling that uncomfortable vibe I got from that young pretty butcher who works at “La Marketa De Carne”.
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