cruising　around　Manhattan。　I’ve　already　been　to　Tommy　Hilfiger　and
  Chanel；　and　after　I　buy　this　puter　game；　I’m　on　my　way　to　Oscar
  de　la　Renta’s　apartment　on　Park　Avenue　to　drop　all　the　stuff　off。
  No；　it’s　not　for　him！　Miranda’s　in　the　DR　and　Annette’s　flying　there
  to　meet　them　all　tonight。　On　a　private　plane；　yes！　Dad！　It　stands
  for　the　Dominican　Republic；　of　course！”
  He　sounded　wary　but　pleased　that　I　was　so　happy；　and　I　came　to
  decide　that　I　was　hired　as　college…educated　messenger。　Which　was
  absolutely　fine　with　me。　After　leaving　the　bag　of　Tommy　clothes；　the
  hot　pants；　and　the　puter　game　with　a　very　distinguished…looking
  doorman　in　a　very　plush　Park　Avenue　lobby　（so　this　is　what　people
  mean　when　they　talk　about　Park　Avenue！）；　I　headed　back　to　the
  Elias…Clark　building。　When　I　walked　into　my　office　area；　Emily　was
  sitting　Indian…style　on　the　floor；　wrapping　presents　in　plain　white
  paper　with　white　ribbons。　She　was　surrounded　by　mountains　of
  red…and…white　boxes；　all　identical　in　shape；　hundreds；　perhaps
  thousands；　scattered　between　our　desks　and　overflowing　into
  Miranda’s　office。　Emily　was　unaware　that　I　was　watching　her；　and　I
  saw　that　it　took　her　only　two　minutes　to　wrap　each　individual　box
  perfectly　and　an　additional　fifteen　seconds　to　tie　on　a　white　satin
  ribbon。　She　moved　efficiently；　not　wasting　a　single　second；　piling
  the　wrapped　white　boxes　in　new　mountains　behind　her。　The　wrapped
  pile　grew　and　grew；　but　the　unwrapped　pile　didn’t　shrink。　I
  estimated　that　she　could　be　at　it　for　the　next　four　days　and　still
  not　finish。
  I　called　her　name　over　the　eighties　CD　she　had　playing　from　her
  puter。　“Um；　Emily？　Hi；　I’m　back。”
  She　turned　toward　me　and　for　a　brief　moment　appeared　to　have　no　idea
  who　I　was。　pletely　blank。　But　then　my　new…girl　status　came
  rushing　back。　“How’d　it　go？”　she　asked　quickly。　“Did　you　get
  everything　on　the　list？”
  I　nodded。
  “Even　the　video　game？　When　I　called；　there　was　only　one　copy　left。
  It　was　there？”
  I　nodded　again。
  “And　you　gave　it　all　to　the　de　la　Rentas’　doorman　on　Park？　The
  clothes；　the　shorts；　everything？”
  “Yep。　No　problem。　It　went　very　smoothly；　and　I　dropped　it　all　off　a
  few　minutes　ago。　I　was　wondering；　will　Miranda　actually　wear　those—”
  “Listen；　I　need　to　run　to　the　bathroom　and　I’ve　been　waiting　for　you
  to　get　back。　Just　sit　by　the　phone　for　a　minute；　OK？”
  “You　haven’t　gone　to　the　bathroom　since　I　left？”　I　asked
  incredulously。　It　had　been　five　hours。　“Why　not？”
  Emily　finished　tying　the　ribbon　on　the　box　she　had　just　wrapped　and
  looked　at　me　coolly。　“Miranda　doesn’t　tolerate　anyone　except　her
  assistants　answering　her　phone；　so　since　you　weren’t　here；　I　didn’t
  want　to　go。　I　suppose　I　could　have　run　out　for　a　minute；　but　I　know
  she’s　having　a　hectic　day；　and　I　want　to　make　sure　that　I’m　always
  available　to　her。　So　no；　we　do　not　go　to　the　bathroom—or　anywhere
  else—without　clearing　it　with　each　other。　We　need　to　work　together
  to　make　sure　that　we　are　doing　the　best　job　possible　for　her。　OK？”
  “Sure；”　I　said。　“Go　ahead。　I’ll　be　right　here。”　She　turned　and
  walked　away；　and　I　put　my　hand　on　the　desk　to　steady　myself。　No
  going　to　the　bathroom　without　a　coordinated　war　plan？　Did　she　really
  sit　in　that　office　for　the　past　five　hours　willing　her　bladder　to
  behave　because　she　worried　that　a　woman　across　the　Atlantic　may　call
  in　the　two　and　a　half　minutes　it　would　take　to　run　to　the　ladies’
  room？　Apparently　so。　It　seemed　a　little　dramatic；　but　I　assumed　that
  was　just　Emily　being　overly　enthusiastic。　There　was　no　way　that
  Miranda　actually　demanded　that　of　her　assistants。　I　was　sure　of　it。
  Or　did　she？
  I　picked　up　a　few　sheets　of　paper　from　the　printer　and　saw　that　it
  was　titled　“X…Mas　Presents　Received。”　One；　two；　three；　four；
  five；six　single…spaced　pages　of　gifts；　with　sender　and　item　on　one
  line　each。　Two　hundred　and　fifty…six　presents　in　all。　It　looked　like
  a　wedding　registry　for　the　Queen　of　England；　and　I　couldn’t　take　it
  in　fast　enough。　There　was　a　Bobby　Brown　makeup　set　from　Bobby　Brown
  herself；　a　one…of…a…kind　leather　Kate　Spade　handbag　from　Kate　and
  Andy　Spade；　a　Smythson　of　Bond　Street　burgundy　leather　organizer
  from　Graydon　Carter；　a　mink…lined　sleeping　bag　from　Miuccia　Prada；　a
  multistrand　beaded　Verdura　bracelet　from　Aerin　Lauder；　a
  diamond…encrusted　watch　from　Donatella　Versace；　a　case　of　champagne
  from　Cynthia　Rowley；　a　matching　beaded　tank　top　and　evening　bag　from
  Mark　Badgley　and　James　Mischka；　a　collection　of　Cartier　pens　from
  Irv　Ravitz；　a　chinchilla　muffler　from　Vera　Wang；　a　zebra…print
  jacket　from　Alberto　Ferretti；　a　Burberry　cashmere　blanket　from
  Rosemarie　Bravo。　And　that　was　just　the　start。　There　were　handbags　in
  every　shape　and　size　from　everyone：　Herb　Ritts；　Bruce　Weber；　Giselle
  Bundchen；　Hillary　Clinton；　Tom　Ford；　Calvin　Klein；　Annie　Leibovitz；
  Nicole　Miller；　Adrienne　Vittadini；　Michael　Kors；　Helmut　Lang；
  Giorgio　Armani；　John　Sahag；　Bruno　Magli；　Mario　Testino；　and　Narcisco
  Rodriguez；　to　name　a　few。　There　were　dozens　of　donations　made　in
  Miranda’s　name　to　various　charities；　what　must　have　been　a　hundred
  bottles　of　wine　and　champagne；　eight　or　ten　Dior　bags；　a　couple
  dozen　scented　candles；　a　few　pieces　of　Oriental　pottery；　silk
  pajamas；　leather…bound　books；　bath　products；　chocolates；　bracelets；
  caviar；　cashmere　sweaters；　framed　photographs；　and　enough　flower
  arrangements　and/or　potted　plants　to　decorate　one　of　those
  five…hundred…couple　mass　weddings　they　have　in　soccer　stadiums　in
  China。　Ohmigod！　Was　this　reality？　Was　this　actually　happening？　Was　I
  now　working　for　a　woman　who　received　256　presents　at　Christmas　from
  some　of　the　world’s　most　famous　people？　Or　not　so　famous？　I　wasn’t
  sure。　I　recognized　a　few　of　the　really　obvious　celebrities　and
  designers；　but　didn’t　know　then　that　the　others　prised　some　of
  the　most　sought…after　photographers；　makeup　artists；　models；
  socialites；　and　a　whole　slew　of　Elias…Clark　executives。　Just　as　I
  was　wondering　if　Emily　actually　knew　who　all　the　people　were；　she
  walked　back　in。　I　tried　to　pretend　I　wasn’t　reading　the　list；　but
  she　didn’t　mind　at　all。
  “Crazy；　isn’t　it？　She　is　the　coolest　woman　ever；”　she　gushed；
  snatching　the　sheets　off　her　desk　and　gazing　at　them　with　what　can
  only　be　described　as　lust。　“Have　you　ever　seen　more　amazing　things
  in　your　life？　This　is　last　year’s　list。　I　just　pulled　it　out　so　we
  know　what　to　expect　since　the　gifts　have　begun　ing　in　already。
  That’s　definitely　one　of　the　best　parts　of　the　job—opening　all　her
  presents。”　I　was　confused。We　opened　her　presents？　Why　wouldn’t　she
  open　them　herself？　I　asked　as　much。
  “Are　you　out　of　your　mind？　Miranda　won’t　like　ninety　percent　of　the
  stuff　people　send。　Some　of　it　is　downright　insulting；　things　I　won’t
  even　show　her。　Like　this；”　she　said；　picking　up　a　small　box。　It　was
  a　Bang　and　Olufsen　portable　phone　in　their　signature　sleek　silver
  with　all　rounded　edges　and　the　capability　to　remain　clear　for
  something　like　2；000　miles。　I　had　been　in　the　store　just　a　couple
  weeks　earlier；　watching　Alex　salivate　over　their　stereo　systems；　and
  I　knew　the　phone　cost　upward　of　five　hundred　dollars　and　could　do
  everything　short　of　holding　a　conversationfor　you。　“A　phone？　Do　you
  believe　someone　had　the　nerve　to　send　Miranda　Priestly　aphone　？”　She
  tossed　it　to　me。　“Keep　it　if　you　want　it：　I　would　never　even　let　her
  see　this。　She’d　be　annoyed　that　someone　sent　somethingelectronic　。”
  She　pronounced　the　word　“electronic”　as　though　it　were　synonymous
  with　“covered　in　bodily　fluids。”
  I　tucked　the　phone　box　under　my　desk　and　tried　to　keep　the　smile　off
  my　face。　It　was　too　perfect！　A　portable　phone　was　on　my　list　of
  stuff　that　I　still　needed　for　my　new　room；　and　I’d　just　gotten　a
  five…hundred…dollar　one　for　free。
  “Actually；”　she　continued；　flopping　down　again　on　the　floor　of
  Miranda’s　office；　Indian…style；　“let’s　put　in　a　few　hours　wrapping
  some　more　of　these　wine　bottles；　and　then　you　can　open　the　presents
  that　came　in　today。　They’re　over　there。”　She　pointed　behind　her　desk
  to　a　smaller　mountain　of　boxes　and　bags　and　baskets　in　a　multitude
  of　colors。
  “So；　these　are　gifts　that　we’re　sending　out　from　Miranda；　right？”　I
  asked　her　as　I　picked　up　a　box　and　began　wrapping　it　in　the　thick
  white　paper。
  “Yep。　Every　year；　it’s　the　same　deal。　Top…tier　people　get　bottles　of
  Dom。　This　would　include　Elias　execs；　and　the　big　designers　who
  aren’t　also　personal　friends。　Her　lawyer　and　accountant。　Midlevel
  people　get　Veuve；　a