Dear Sis:

Thanks for bearing with my long silence. I told you on the phone I'd fill you in on all the details. Here goes.

Like I said, I got asked to come in Saturday before last to help supervise the carpet cleaning crew. Billy Merchant (the building manager) promised me a bonus for my help. Sam okayed it, so I got up extra early to catch the bus (which runs on a reduced schedule on Saturday). Got to the building at 8:00, right on time. No one was there. I was locked out, and it was raining, so I sat under a tree in the back hoping someone would show up soon. Billy finally showed up around 9:30, at which point I was soaked to the bone.

I know, I should have gone home. But I didn't. I didn't want to miss out on that bonus; I need the money. The cleaning crew was on the first floor doing Vance Refrigeration and Darryl's office in the Dunder Mifflin warehouse. I grabbed a couple of towels from the locker room in the warehouse, borrowed Lonny's extra work shirt and went upstairs to the Dunder Mifflin offices, which I knew would be empty. I changed out of my wet clothes in the ladies' room and toweled off, and then realized I had seen a jumpsuit in the supply closet. I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out to the supply closet, which is between the men's and ladies' rooms. Like I said, I thought the place was empty.

It wasn't. I ran smack into a tall, balding guy with a pot belly I'd never seen before. He leered at me, said something rude, and grabbed me. I kicked him in the shin (which hurt like hell, barefoot) and dodged into the supply closet. There's no way to lock that door, so I put the rolling mop bucket up against it and wedged it with a trash barrel. I knew it wouldn't hold very long, but I was hoping I could get into that jumpsuit and grab a mop to defend myself with (I didn't spend six months in stir for nothing, I guess). I was struggling into the jumpsuit when the door was shoved open, and this tall guy comes in. He about filled up the room, and I have to tell you I was scared, Sis. He had a mean look in his eye. I was shoving stuff at him, trying to get him off balance, and the box of condoms hit the floor at his feet. He grinned, picked them up, and said something about being glad he'd stashed them here. So I guess we know whose condoms those were.

Anyway, he had me backed up against the wall, half in and half out of this too-small jumpsuit, and I was looking around for a mop or something to hit him with. He was reaching for me when just then the door opened and Creed Bratton stepped in! I was astonished, but this other fellow just frowned. Creed smiled pleasantly at both of us, then turned to face the (closed) door. The tall guy and I were just looking at the back of his head, and then Creed turned around with a frown and said, "What's wrong with this elevator? It isn't moving." I couldn't help it—whether it was nervous tension or whatever, I laughed (maybe a little hysterically). The tall man cussed at Creed (really rude language) and shoved past him, knocking Creed back against the wall. Somehow their feet got tangled up, and the tall guy went flying, bounced off the kitchen counter across from the door to the supply closet, and smacked into the wall.

I finished stuffing myself into the jumpsuit (which turned out to belong to someone named Devon) and hurried out. Creed was casually leaning against the wall next to the door of the supply closet, watching this tall fellow pull himself up and cuss a blue streak. I smelled liquor on his breath, and he started to cuss me out. I gave him back as good as he got and he looked a little surprised. But then I told him I was calling the cops and he got all pale and started bellowing about how it was all a misunderstanding. I told him I didn't misunderstand someone grabbing my breast and groping me in a dark closet, and headed past him for the phones to call the police.

He tried to follow me, alternately yelling and pleading, but somehow Creed kept getting between him and me, until finally the tall guy just turned and practically ran out the door. When he was gone, I sat down at Pam's desk, shaking like a leaf. Creed brought me a glass of water and told me to drink it straight down, it was 100 proof. I am not sure if he was kidding or not. I get the feeling, especially that day, that some of Creed's goofiness is an act. Anyway, he told me the tall guy who assaulted me was called Todd Packer, and he had been working as a salesman at Dunder Mifflin as long as Creed had. I thanked Creed for coming to my rescue and he kind of looked blank and wondered why I hadn't just pulled the emergency cord to stop the train.

Anyway, I was pretty shaken, crying, and didn't know whether to call the cops or not. I thought I ought to, to get the bastard thrown in jail, but Creed said this Todd was tight with Michael Scott. I don't want to get the boss of the place I clean mad at me; I can't afford to lose this job. So in the end I didn't file any charges against him. I didn't have any proof, anyway, and I really don't think it would do any good to call Creed as a witness to anything. He's a sweet guy but he doesn't live in the real world. A defense attorney would take him apart.

At that point, Billy Merchant came wheeling in, looking for me, and I did tell him what had happened. He knows Packer and he got mad as hell. I told him I wasn't filing charges, and he agreed with me that Michael Scott doesn't have the sense that God gave a goose when it comes to "his people", and would probably interfere with any investigation, so I persuaded him to let it drop. However, Billy said he was going to keep an eye on Todd Packer and might bar his car from the lot or something. From the gleam in Billy's eye, I got the feeling that something very expensive is going to happen to Packer's Corvette (that's what he drives, Billy said). Anyway, Billy apologized all to hell and gone for the whole thing, even though it wasn't his fault. Somewhere in all of this conversation, Creed disappeared, and when I went to find him to thank him again I couldn't find him. Billy gave me cab money to get home, told me he would still pay me the bonus money for showing up, and that he'd re-schedule some of the carpet cleaning for another time so I could actually wind up earning two bonuses.

But I gotta say, I was really scared by that encounter. You hear stories about things that go on after hours, and in the cleaning business you hear stories about women getting raped in offices after hours. I should have listened. I wish I wasn't barred from carrying a weapon. One of the women in the cleaning company, Selma, told me she always carries a spray bottle of ammonia to spray in the eyes of someone who might attack her. I might start doing that. Maybe I should talk to Dwight Schrute, who seems to know something about self defense? Or I might put my chemistry degree to work and figure out a way to concoct Mace out of household bleach. Kidding!

Anyway, no harm done except to my pride and sense of security. However, thanks to the shock and being completely soaked in the rain, I came down with one hell of a cold. I've been flat on my back most of this week, and though Sam was really nice about it I only had two sick days, so the other days have been time off without pay. So it turns out that bonus from Billy just went to make up for the pay I lost when I lost a week of work. Will it sound too self-pitying if I say I never catch a break?

Georgia and I did some cookie experiments, though. Check out this recipe for rose cookies. I think it's a winner.

Hug the girls for Aunt Sunny and tell them I'll call soon. Are they dreading back-to-school? I miss Septembers. It was always fun that first week when the kids came to class still hyped up from the summer break, with new clothes and new pencils, not yet disillusioned.

Love,

Sunny

Dear Sis:

Today was my first day back at work since The Incident. I was glad to see that apparently nobody was the wiser. I didn't want people looking at me funny or talking about me behind my back. I brought in a couple dozen of the new rose cookies, and I thought the Vance Refrigeration guys were going to come to blows over them. Pam and Phyllis both cornered me to get the recipe, but I'm not giving it out just yet. By the way, you can leave off the rose leaves at the end of the recipe if you want; Georgia used pink icing to make little rose buds on the top and even the men liked them.

I put three rose cookies on a plate special for Creed and left them on his desk. He didn't look up from his solitaire game.

I talked to Meredith, the lady with the liquor bottles. She was in the break room holding her head in her hands (I think she had a hangover). I just made chit chat about her kids (she has a boy and a girl; the girl lives with her dad, and it seems that Meredith has been divorced twice). Anyway, she's worried about her job because she's been falling behind in fulfillment orders. Her boy Jake had problems all year and had to go to summer school, but he's been skipping class and the school keeps calling her to remind her that he'll be flunked if he doesn't show up. I told her I've been tutoring Stanley's daughter Melissa, and offered to tutor this Jake kid. If he's like I think he is, I've got his number. I 've handled smart-ass kids from "broken" homes before—he needs more attention and more discipline, and I think his alcoholic mom isn't giving him that. So I left Meredith a couple of cookies and my phone number in case she wants some help. I'd hate to see a kid go wrong just because nobody was there to help him. But maybe I shouldn't interfere; it's none of my business, and it's not like I don't have my own troubles. What do you think, Sis?

Tell Adam he's a sweetheart to get so riled up over The Incident. But really, it's over, and I'm more wary and no harm was really done. He does NOT need to drive up to Scranton to rescue me, bless his heart. But you and Adam might want to think about self-defense classes for the girls.

Oh, and Rabbi Aaron was so mad when I talked about The Incident in meeting that I had to hang onto his arm to keep him from calling the cops right there. Nice to know there are nice men in the world. Maybe Adam and Rabbi Aaron should get together and beat drums or eat raw meat on a stick.

My love to the girls!

Love,

Sunny

PS Do you think orange water could substitute for rosewater in the cookie recipe? How about lavender? We could invent a whole new line of flower cookies.

PPS No, I have no idea what Creed was doing in the office on a weekend. Now that you mention it, that was a little strange, wasn't it?