It's not the worst thing I've ever done, but it might be the straw that broke the camel's back.

For the second time in three weeks I've spent the last two days fighting off some horrible, nasty bug. This time it's in my intestines. I'll spare you the gory details. When I finally rolled out of bed at 2 p.m. today, I couldn't tell if I was still feeling so horrible because it had been 48 hours since my last meal or because I'm really still so sick. Is that jackhammer pounding away in my skull a part of whatever is eating my intestines or is it because I haven't had a cup of coffee in two days?

Last night at work I was actually feeling so feverish that I think I had a hallucination. I don't know how else to explain the woman who appeared before me as I was trying to close down the office. She looked to be in her seventies and she was wearing a black coat and a garishly printed scarf. Thinking back, it could've been a Pucci scarf. Adam is always pointing out these really hideous articles of clothing people are wearing, things with geometric patterns in colors like puce and mustard yellow and neon pink and saying "OH! That's a real Pucci!" And I'm like, "Really? Someone paid decent money for that? It looks like what came out of my ass when I did that colon cleanse last year." Maybe Pucci is Italian for Pukey. I'm getting distracted. So she's wearing this horribly bright scarf, it's actually making my headache worse, and she's got this crazy little hat on, something with fur and lace and a couple of dead birds. Her make-up is caked on so thick I'm wondering if she's ever actually washed her face or if maybe she just adds more to yesterdays base every morning before she leaves the house. Her eyes are lined in black liner so thick it's scary, her eyelashes are gooped with mascara and her hot orange lipstick is seeping into the wrinkles around her mouth. Her appearance alone is startling, but then she's just kind of standing in front of my desk, swaying gently from side to side, staring at me. I didn't see her walk up or anything, I just looked up and there she was. Staring at me.

"Can I help you?"

"You don't know me. I don't know you. I was robbed today on the subway and I need money to get home." She points to the drawer where we keep the cash register. "Can you give me something?"

"Oh, wow. That's terrible. I'm so sorry. I don't carry cash."

It just pops out of my mouth: I don't carry cash. The truth is, I think I have at least five dollars in my purse, but there is something about this woman that is creeping me the EFF out. I'm watching her sway in front of me and wondering if I should risk offending her by reaching over and locking the door to the reception area so she can't come around. She's just a little old lady in a bad outfit, but something ain't right. And I definitely did not like the way she pointed at the cash drawer.

"I got robbed today on the subway and I don't know how to get home. I guess I'll just have to sleep at Penn Station. Unless you can give me some money." I swear she's staring at the cash drawer, but I can't be sure.

"Did you call the police after you were robbed?"

"No. The police don't care. This is New York."

"Well, why don't you call the police and file a report now? They'll give you a ride home afterwards or at least give you a taxi voucher or something."

"This is New York! They don't care! I live in New Jersey! I just need five dollars. Can you just give me five dollars?" Now I really think she's staring at the cash drawer. But I'm feverish so maybe I'm just being paranoid?

"I'm sorry, I don't have any cash. Don't you have someone you can call who can come pick you up?"

"I'll just sleep at Penn Station. Unless you can give me some money."

The whole time I'm talking to her, I'm thinking about my mom. What if it was my mom who got robbed and had to sleep in a train station because she had no money to get home? What if it was my mom asking some girl for a little bit of cash so she wouldn't have to spend the night in a train station and that girl was being a bitch and wouldn't give her any? The thought of my beautiful mama having to sleep in a train station is too awful, so I'm thinking maybe I should figure out a way to help this woman. Except the thing is, #1) my mom doesn't look or act like a crazy old lady. Except when she wants to for fun. #2) My mom would CALL THE POLICE THE MOMENT AFTER GETTING ROBBED. 3) My mom has lots of family members who would drop whatever they were doing to pick her up if she were stranded somewhere, so she wouldn't have to ask strangers for money. I'm also remembering those parables (is that the right word?) from the bible where they talk about the angels going down to earth and acting like sick beggars to see which humans are kind and which are greedy and I'm totally paranoid that God is testing me and that I'm failing. But this woman is creeping me out. And now I'm starting to get mad because I think she's putting me in a really awkward position. I'm starting to feel like this whole "I'll just sleep at the train station" business is a tool of manipulation.

"I don't understand why you didn't call the police after you were robbed. They'd have set you up with a way to get home."

She stares at me blankly for a moment and blinks her goopy painted eyes. "Because I was robbed. I didn't have a quarter for the payphone."

"You don't need a quarter! It's free to dial 9-1-1!"

Just then, one of the therapists comes around the corner. I breathe a sigh of relief because I suddenly realize I'm not alone in the building with this creepy woman.

"Hey, Jackie! This woman was robbed today."

"What? How awful!"

The woman starts jumping up and down. "No, no, no! I don't know her. She can't help me. You don't know me!" the woman is practically yelling at us.

"I don't know you, but I've seen you around before." Jackie replies.

So the woman sways over to Jackie and starts telling her story, how she just needs five dollars, etc. I lock the reception door and stealthily reach into my purse to check my wallet. I figure I'm better off giving her my five bucks and getting her to leave, than having her sway in front of me for the rest of the night. But I also don't want her to see me looking in my purse because I still feel like something is off with her. She's really creepy. Did I mention that?

"I'm sorry," Jackie is saying, "I really don't have any cash. You need to call the police. They will arrange a ride home for you."

I find three singles in my wallet, but that's all. "Excuse me, Ma'am?" I say. "I found three dollars in my wallet. That will help, won't it?"

She looks up at me, startled. "Where'd you get that?" she snaps.

"Um, in my wallet? I just thought I'd double check to see if I had cash and I have three dollars."

"That won't do me any good, will it? I need five dollars. Not three. This is ridiculous." And with that, she storms out of the office. Just like that. I mean, could she have been any more anti-climactical? Seriously? I thought for sure she was going to pull a gun out of her bag or put a hex on me at least. But that's it? She just leaves?

"OK, that was really weird." Jackie says. "I felt bad, but that was weird."

"WASN'T IT?? There was something totally off about her!"

"Yeah. Something was weird. But I'm pretty sure she works here. I've seen her around before."

"She WORKS here? Like, she's a therapist here? Are you sure she isn't someone's patient?"

"No, she's a therapist."

Did that actually happen? The whole thing was so bizarre it kind of seems like a dream. And I genuinely hope she didn't spend the night at the train station, but I mean, if she was really so desperate, why didn't she take my three dollars? Then she'd only need to get a hold of two more. And why didn't she call the police after getting robbed? And why did she wait until 10:15 p.m. before trying to figure out a way to get home to New Jersey? And also, if she was an angel sent by God to test me, am I going to hell now? Because I really think God shouldn't send creepy angels to test us. I mean, seriously. At least play fair, you know?