Ok today was another day. It usually is. Woke up tired because I went to bed exhausted, but was able to drag that big ol’ ass of mine to work, only a minute or so. Walked to work listening to the Cure. Played 10:15 Saturday Night a few times. Old Cure song, great hooks. Robert Smith’s hair wasn’t so big then. But who’s was really? The nice bus driver waited for me to get on the bus, as it was about to pull away.
I sat and pulled out the New Yorker. But couldn’t really focus since my mind was still fixated on Spamalot. It really was a fun and funny show. Actually brilliant. Eric Idle really did good. Also Mike Nichols directing helped too. The whole audience was in the palm of their hand. It was an sweaty, hair palm, but they had us nonetheless. Very faithful to the movie, which made it even more memorable. I was surprised at the fact of the Trojan Rabbit and the Black Knight who loses all of his limbs actually making appearances. The final limb-severing scene was hilarious as usual and deftly performed.
Bill enjoyed it greatly, laughing as uproariously as ever. I neglected to mention that my arch nemesis from the office, Linda Natale was there with her husband, a pinkie ring wearer. Linda Natale won a ticket from placing in fourth place in the office trivia competition. Another office drone, Mike sat between Bill and Linda Natale. The show was great enough to ignore Linda Natale and her Soprano-esque husband as well as ignoring Mike.
I am pretty sure Bill and I were exhausted from laughing so much and so hard. I was surprised I found the fortitude to write when we got home.
I woke up and put on the black Sean John 3 button pinstriped suit with the usual Paul Frederick French cuffs and tab collar shirt and a pink silk tie from City of London. I looked bangin’. Of course I did.
I had a job interview this afternoon at McMann and Tate, an advertising company in the western regions of Soho, right above S.O.B.’s. I looked corporate enough for a midtown investment bank yet hip enough for Soho. Clearly I walk the line. It was a beautiful office, with hip people in jeans and sneakers. I do love suits, but the upkeep is costly. Jeans and sneakers are so much easier. I can get back to that I’m sure. A suit every once in a while would be cool too. Keeps the fetish alive, says I.
The interviews went amazingly well. I was very comfortable and they were very nice. I was taken on a tour of the office and it seemed like the job was within my grasp. I even told them how I’d really want the job and how I’d love to work there. Who knows? They did tell me that they had a few more people to see, but they would get in touch with me. Surprisingly I’m not too worked up over it, having been down this road a few times before. Though I never expressed any enthusiasm for those jobs as I had today for McMann and Tate.
I wandered a bit through the village before heading back to midtown. Would’ve been so nice to just walk from McMann and Tate to the Path train to head home, but I went to west 4th Street like the automaton that Wanker Banker wants. I felt optimistic, odd enough been feeling that way most of the week. The glass was half filled indeed. Despite being confronted with the usual daftness of a few of my coworkers, it really didn’t bother me. Christina even offered to stay late so I could go home early and I took her up on her offer.
I did have a plan to go to the Townhouse and show off how good I looked, maybe Oscar Wilde’s, even called up Matt. But realizing that cash wasn’t much of an option having left card at home, I decided to head home to the plastic. Perhaps tomorrow. I could probably get away with wearing the same thing, I doubt that anyone would notice.
So I had my Padron and walked to the Path train listening to Massive Attack, Mezzanine. Having not heard it in a while, I forgot what an urban soundscape it was. It was cool. When I was about a block away from home, their cover of Man Next Door featured a sample of 10:15 Saturday Night. Full circle.
I had to go to the A&P tonight, and I’m pretty sure Thursday night is gay night. Not very crowded, and most of the guys were gay or at least, metro sexual and accompanied by fag hags. Very interesting, no?