Meg Cabot - Boy Meets Girl

Playlist:

Kate and Me

Random Acts of Kate

In the Bedroom with Kate

I Love U, Kate, for Now

Kate, Y Did U Leave Me

Chasing Kate

Come Back, Kate

Ice Weasels Gnaw My Brain

All songs, lyrics by Dale Carter &

I’m Not Making Any More Sandwiches™

Y Won’t U B With Me, Kate?

Oh, Kate, Y won’t U B with me?

Kate, Don’t U know what U mean to me?

I look at the dirty dishes piling up in the sink

and all I can think

is Kate

U kept the place so clean

Kate, I treated U like a queen

Oh, Kate, U mean the world to me

Kate, Come home to me

Oh, Kate, Y can’t it B

Like it used to B

Because this world ain’t meant for lovers

No, this world ain’t meant for U and me

Because the bureaucrats in Washington, they’ll set off the bombs, so what’s the point, Kate?

We’re all just going to die, anyway.

So, Kate, Y won’t U B with me?

—Dale Carter, All Rights Reserved

Journal of Kate Mackenzie

Dale shoved another one of his songs about me under the door. This one was written on the back of a playlist. Craig found it when he got home today from the office. Seriously, what am I going to do about him? Dale, not Craig. I think eight songs about me is a little much (could “Ice Weasels Gnaw My Brain” be about me, too? No, surely not. I mean, what do I have to do with ice weasels? What ARE ice weasels? Are they real? Are there really weasels that live on ice? What do they eat?).

Oh God, I have got to get some sleep, I can’t be groggy in the morning, I’ve to go get deposed by Stuart Hertzog’s brother. What am I even going to say to him? What if I accidentally let slip that I don’t think Mrs. Lopez should have been fired in the first place, and he tells the T.O.D. what I said? You so know he will, he’s Stuart Hertzog’s BROTHER. Stuart I’m-engaged-to-the-T.O.D. Hertzog. Plus he’s a lawyer. Lawyer + Stuart Hertzog’s brother = mean, evil person with no conscience or soul. He’ll tell Stuart, and Stuart’ll tell Amy, and then I’ll get fired. I’ll get fired just like Mrs. Lopez got fired. Only I don’t belong to a union, so I won’t even have anyone to defend me. I’ll just become a statistic, another member of Manhattan’s homeless, jobless community.

Oh my God, I hate my life. Something has GOT to give. It’s just GOT to.

Deposition of Kathleen Mackenzie

in case of Ida D. Lopez/United Staff

Association of NYJ. Local 6884

vs.

The New York Journal

held at the offices of

Hertzog Webber and Doyle

444 Madison Avenue, Suite 1505

New York, NY 10022

Appearances:

Kathleen Mackenzie (KM)

Mitchell Hertzog (MH)

Recorded by Anne Kelly (AK) for later comparison with stenographer’s transcript

Miriam Lowe, Shorthand Reporter and Notary Public within and for the State of New York

AK: Good morning, Ms. Mackenzie, thank you so much for coming. Please have a seat. May I get you a cup of coffee, tea, soda—whatever you prefer?

KM: Coffee would be good, thanks.

AK: Fine. Mr. Hertzog should be joining us in a second. I’ll just be a moment while I get your coffee. Do you take cream or sugar?

KM: Yes, both, thank you.

(Sound of door closing)

(Sound of door opening)

MH: Oh, sorry, wrong room.

KM: No problem.

(Sound of door closing)

(Sound of door opening)

MH: Wait a minute. You’re Katherine Mackenzie?

KM: Kathleen. Kate, actually.

MH: Oh, Kathleen. Sorry. I didn’t . . . I expected someone . . .

KM: Yes?

MH: Never mind. Nice to meet you. I’m Mitch Hertzog.

KM: You’re Mitchell Hertzog?

MH: Last time I checked. Why?

KM: I . . . Nothing. I just—you’re not—

MH: I think it’s safe to say neither of us is what the other expected.

KM: It’s just that . . . Well, you don’t look anything like your brother.

MH: Thank God. Sorry. It’s the tie, isn’t it?

KM: I’m sorry? Oh, the tie. Is that . . . Rocky and Bullwinkle?

MH: ‘Fraid so. Gift from my nieces.

KM: It’s . . . colorful.

MH: I know it throws people when we turn out to have a sense of humor.

KM: We?

MH: Lawyers. Oh, I see Anne’s got the recorder going already. Where’d she go?

KM: To get coffee.

MH: Great. And here’s the stenographer. So I guess we can start—

KM: Shouldn’t Mrs. Lopez be here? And her lawyer?

MH: This is just a pretrial conference, not a deposition. I’ve found it’s good to get all the facts straight before moving on to any formal proceedings. Less surprises that way. That okay with you?

KM: Sure. I guess.

MH: Great. Like I said, I’m Mitchell Hertzog, and I’m representing the New York Journal against Ida Lopez, for whom I understand you were . . .

(Sound of papers shuffling)

MH (con’t) . . . a personnel rep?

KM: That’s right. Not for very long. I mean, I just started working at the Journal.

MH: Is that right? When did you start working there?

KM: Last fall. I was a social worker, with the city, before.

MH: Really? But—excuse me for pointing it out—you obviously aren’t from around here—

KM: Oh, no. My accent, you mean? I’m from Kentucky, actually. I just moved here, you know, after I got my degree. Social work.

MH: I see. And if social work’s your thing, New York City’s the place to be?

KM: Well, yes. That, and my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—well, he’s a musician—

MH: Say no more. Did it work out better for him than it did for you?

KM: I beg your pardon?

MH: The social work thing. I mean, you’re not doing it anymore.

KM: Oh. No. I took the job with the Journal because, you know, working for the city . . . it was kind of depressing.

MH: Sure.

KM: All these people, they don’t have anything, or any way, really, to make things better. And there were these programs, you know, to help them, but—I don’t know—it didn’t quite work out the way I thought it would. I mean, a lot of the programs got eliminated because the city ran out of money, or sometimes my clients didn’t qualify for them for whatever reason . . . and it just seemed like no matter how hard I tried, you know, things never got better, and there was really nothing I could do about it, and I took the job because I thought I could help make a difference. Only it turned out, I couldn’t. So I was going home every night and crying into my chicken in garlic sauce, and finally, it just seemed healthier to quit.

MH: Chicken. In garlic sauce.

KM: That sounded stupid, didn’t it?

MH: Absolutely not.

KM: No. It did. You’re just being nice.

MH: I’m not. I swear I’m not. I’m not nice.

(Sound of door opening)

Oh, look. Here’s Anne with the coffee.

AK: Here you go.

MH: Cream or sugar, Ms.—

KM: Kate. Both, thanks. I . . . oops.

MH: Sorry about that.

KM: No, it was my fault—

MH: Here you go. Now, uh, where were we? Oh, yes. So you quit social work. . . .

KM: Oh, right. Well, my friend Jen got a job there right out of college, and when a position came up in her department, she recommended me. And I’ve been there ever since. I mean, it isn’t my dream job, or anything. We’re not really helping anybody. Well, maybe occasionally. But at least, you know, I don’t go home anymore and—

MH: Cry into your chicken with garlic sauce.

KM: Exactly.