Incognito NYC

Pg. 2: I have a Secret

I grab some breakfast and some coffee--white-chocolate cappuccino. I don't like straight up black coffee. Blek. I sit down at our dining table and start to daydream and wonder about the boat-load of chores and things to do on this new, summertime day.

Uh, sorry, explaining myself all that well. I digress: I am the daughter of the Italian deli/butcher shop NLM! (Nice Looking Meat. My father has a very... expanding mindset). My father is Italian (despite having a spanish last name, which I have no idea how they got), but has lived in our hometown of New York his entire life, as his parents (my grandpa and grandma) fled Italy to the U.S. before he was born, for a better life. When he grew up, he fell in love with the deli business, which eventually helped him find his late wife... my deceased mom. Though, most of our family comes from small town communities, and, get this, a New York mafia (my mom's side). Like I said earlier: you don't want to get on De Aturdir's bad side. It wouldn't be very pretty.

***

As the day flew by, faster than most of these humid days, I had already started to feel a sense of dread weave braids into my stomach. I mean, yes, I am the daughter of a butcher. It's part of the job to be dreadful of accidents at all times. I mean, I could be made fun of just because of Papa's work. But... that's not the reason I'm quite antsy.

I HAVE A SECRET.

I have a double life. Like a double-edge sword, always sharp but dangerous one side or the other. Every morning, and all day this summer, I am the small, quiet, sweet little daughter living a butcher's life. But at night, I become... A SUPERHERO! No, not really (*snort*)... unless you can believe a famous, totally aging Italian fashion designer in New York City to be one... in, like, the fashion industry? I don't really know.