Names have been changed

The sun is starting to go down and you're sitting in a red IKEA chair trying to get comfortable. You look at the clock and see it's 7:30 p.m. Your work day ends at 7:00 p.m. There are 10 other girls sitting in that small room waiting for permission to go home to Long Island, New Jersey, Brooklyn, or to wherever they are residing in Manhattan. The oldest girl is 27 and you, you are the youngest. You are 16. Some of the girls are sitting on the loft's wooden floor and others in red chairs just like you. Some are wearing Forever 21 and others are wearing Miu Miu. Your boss, a skinny five foot seven inch tall blonde comes running into the Press Room.

"Who checked out a silver brocade skirt?" she says with urgency and fear in her voice. 

Rebecca Daniels follows her, then Courtney Erickson and Matt Londoner.

Four of your bosses are now standing over you asking for a skirt you know nothing about. 

Rebecca breaks the silence. "We need to locate this skirt. I need it for the meeting with Barney's tomorrow morning"

The room remains silent for a good two minutes which of course feels like 100 to you.

"Lady Gaga's stylist has it checked out at the Maritime" Sarah says in her Irish accent. 

Rebecca looks at you. "Do you know where the Maritime Hotel is?"

"Yeah, across from Buddakan" you reply knowingly.

The whole office begins to scurry. You are given the phone number of the stylist and told to go to the Maritime Hotel and not come back until you have the skirt. 

Yes, it is now 7:45 p.m. but you don't complain. You just stand up and walk over to the elevator. You are on an important mission.

You walk downtown on 11th avenue to 23rd street and all of a sudden the rain starts to fall.  You have no hood or umbrella. You look up to the sky and think "Why now? it's been lovely all day." If this were a movie the camera would be filming you from a high angle to show just how helpless you're feeling. You pick up your pace and walk for what seems like miles.

Finally, after what seems like hours, you arrive at the Maritime Hotel. You look less than adequate for its upscale regularity but nonetheless you walk into the lobby and ask the bellhop to ring the stylist's room. You wait in the lobby for 30 minutes before the stylist brings you the skirt. 

When she does you thank her, introduce yourself, then put the skirt in a garment bag and leave. You start to walk uptown again. The rain has stopped and you're enjoying the moist cool air. You are almost dry due to your wait inside the air-conditioned hotel. Then, all of a sudden, it starts up again. New York is now a rainforest. You step in a puddle and immediately your suede boots are soaked through to your socks.

The thought of the twelve blocks ahead makes you want to cry, laugh and give up all at once. But you can't. They are counting on you. This skirt represents thousands of dollars in retail sales. You're a part of that, so you won't give up.

You remember that a million girls would kill to have your job, and suddenly the rain smells sweet.