Penelope Resto. Mid twenties New Yorker, born and raised. Confident and savvy, pursuant to a life of grinding away for something better, spends her days looking up daily gigs and her nights either bartending at her regular job or adventuring around the city with her best friend Qisha. She is accosted by Diego as his misadventures crash into her, literally, as she is en route to work one evening. Below is one of two journal entries she penned before getting to know Diego and Jamish. Back when things were simple and the hardest part of her day was deciding whether to go home after work, or see what mischief she and Qisha could get up to.
August 24th
Journal Entry #236 of 2017
Oh man, what a day. My goddess. Qisha and I had plans to go out. Mind you, I work at a bar, so if I'm going to get into some spirits, I'll just do it after a shift. I kept fighting for The Crocodile Lounge. You get a slice with every beer. I was in the mood for beer. She was on her $5 a day binge, so she kept advocating for trying to sign up for free meals and/or a free drink or crashing some art gallery opening. I'm like, no.
I convinced her to include maybe getting a drink bought for you or going on a date as part of the cheap living curriculum, but she said that was sexist. I mean, I guess. I'm not trying to get with her, she knows that, but I was willing to buy her a couple beers, which gets her a couple slices. I think it's win win.
I won.
So I had a rare day off and wanted to just get out. I've been staying with my sister in Queens and let me tell you, getting to the LES from 73rd and 173rd is a pain in my ass, so I wanted to mosey my way into the city, chill, and drink til daylight. I mean, it's not worth it to head back home. Quiche lives over in Harlem, so my plan was to just stay out til we pass out and crash at her place.
It would have worked double for me since I am gonna head to Central Park and hand out fliers. This co-working place is opening up nearby and they are paying a dollar a flier. I'll pass out a thousand if they let me. And they will. I don't know how long they are doing this promotion, but I'm all about making that money. Multiple streams of income, as I like to say.
Anyway, so Quiche and I are talking as I'm riding this bus and she is arguing with me about whether or not to let me buy her a couple drinks. I swear, it's just a couple drinks. Her project doesn't allow for charity, which is not something she's mentioned even once. Not even once. I don't want to call her a liar, but she's lying. She's just being hardheaded. I think I mentioned that. Anyway, she changed her tune real quick when we got there. It's a pretty low key dive bar, has skee ball too. I don't like going there too much, but it's nice when you wanna get a few drinks and a bunch of bread. They're not street slices, which we got after the bar anyway, but they're not bad.
I admire her efforts. This is a cool project. She even got them to let her film in there. I think she's gonna try to make a youtube channel out of it or something. If she can monetize it, I'm all for it.
So we left the bar, it was still early, and decided to go get some more drinks. We patrolled midtown for a bit, annoyed with all the people. She didn't want to spend too much time near Harlem, since she lives up there, so we ended up making our way to and through Korea town and then down toward the LES. It was a nice change of pace. I always feel like I'm on the move, you know. Like I have to get from one place to the next, I have to get to work or a workshop or to a co-working space to get some work done. I'm all about that grind, but it gets tiring.
Staying with my sister out in Queens, who bought my parents house after they moved down to Georgia. Why did they pick Georgia? I have no idea. They're happy though. I don't visit much. Neither does Nikki. Thank you facetime. So the house we grew up in. I mean, it's nice having some space. I don't know that I want that. I like the hustle and bustle in the city. I like having to bump elbows as I get through my day. I think I would like it way more if I could get an apartment I liked here in the City that I really liked. Don't get me wrong, my friend Kerri said it best, “If you're not collapsing into your bed exhausted at the end of every night, you're doing it wrong.” I'm all for that, I just don't want to pass out on the bus ride home anymore. I don't wanna crash at Qisha's place if I can avoid it. I'd like to stay out and and then head back home.
Just my luck though, I'll meet some friends in Brooklyn or the Bronx or something and they'll want to hang out and my place will be too small to let them all crash at the end of the night. Whatever, I'll just have a few extra blankets. They can camp on the floor.
So tomorrow, well today. Damn. It's already 4:30 and I agreed to pass out fliers at 10. Fuck. I need to get to sleep. Just one more thing though:
If I can get two days of work out of that space and pass out two thousand fliers, and mind you, I will pass out at least a thousand a day that I'm working, plus what I am going to make at the bar, which lately has been down to 550 a night instead of 650, I should be able to swing my own space in the City. I keep mentioning that. I know I it is something I've really wanted for a long time, but I mean, obviously I want it if I mention it.
Oh my god. I forgot! I'm going to see the Knicks play tonight! Fuck. Wait. Is that tonight? No... they are off for the summer. What is happening right now?
Oh shit, it's 6:15 already. The sun is coming up. Quiche's apartment faces the east. It's a beautiful sunrise. I don't think I've ever noticed. You can see so much of the skyline. I mean, I can see the Empire State Building, for example. Clear as day right now. I can see my house from here. What a cliché. I can see the mouth of the river. It leads into the ocean from where I can see. The sun is cascading along the surface and reflecting onto the buildings on the shores of either side. It's pretty. I love my City.
This wasn't supposed to be a sentimental entry. But, here we are.