Wicked Game

Busy day, running from station to station, person to person. Like a
maniac mind you. Barely had time to pack up Earl’s gifts and send them
out. I hope he likes. I tried to budget myself on his gifts but if you
know me, you know me and budgets. Mutually incompatible. Not for lack
of trying. Just hard to figure out, or even put into words, so I won’t
even go there.

It was a non stop day, hardly anytime to sit and catch my breath or
smoke a cigarette, which affects breathing as we all know. I’ve been
chatting with a certain someone who seems to be screwing his way
around an Ivy League college. Good for him as long as he plays safe.
he says he does and I believe him. Now that the boy has wheels, heaven
help the man on the prowl.

I write this in a halfhearted attempt to at least have something
written for the blog since I don’t know what condition or state of
mind I will be in. So Earl’s present, a t-shirt, some buttons, a CD I
bought and two CD’s I burned that Juan made me and are very cool, and
some hip magazines for the herbivore rock and roll fan. Apparently
there’s a niche for non carnivore rock and rollers. Who knew?

Bill is coming tonight and will meet my coworkers. Bill is dressing to
impress. I tried to dissuade him, but he insisted. I don’t mind. He
looked smashing when leaving the apartment this morning. Me? I’m in a
nice old navy short sleeved shirt, nice retro pattern and black
wrangler trousers that I bought on Bergenline Avenue in the spring. I
would’ve suited up, but I knew I’d be running around like a chicken
without it’s head. A free range chicken, at that.

I have no idea how many words I’ve written. This is, according to the
word press counter, the 365th entry. But it’s really not. I’m still
a bit off, and though I started this on October 7th of last year, it
hasn’t been a non stop thrill, there has been some entries when I was
ill, some oldies and goodies and a whole mish mosh of what the hell is
that? Someone is smoking in the office and it isn’t me. That’s all I can
muster for now.

That was yesterday. I was unable to finish the blog, good old number 365 since I got home obscenely late and three sheets to the wind. The party was good. On my way to the party I had planned to meet Bill when I got a phone call from a frantic Felicia who insisted that I go to her apartment first. I texted Bill and let him know that we could meet there. Bill didn’t get the text though. He called me and I filled him in as I sat in Felicia’s expensive apartment in Chelsea. I had a quick beer while Felicia ran around the apartment with her little yapping dogs trailing behind her. She wasn’t going to make it to the club on time so she gave me some posters to put up and told me she’d meet me there. I let with the posters and walked over to the bar, once again, calling Bill and letting him know what was now happening.

I was the first one from McMann and Tate to arrive, and I set about telling the caterer where to put the food as I put up posters. The coworkers arrived and that’s when it all went boozy. I sort of forgotten what hard partiers the British could be. It turned out to be a success. Felicia got the credit, I did the work. It was fine though. Boozy talk with coworkers that I’d never really spoken to in depth. I didn’t make it to the after party. Time flew and I was having fun. Bill was a hit with the coworkers and he dug them as well. Everyone was on their best behavior.

I hung out with a really nice client and asked if I could sleep on the floor of his hotel room. He said he had twin beds and I could sleep in the other one. It sounded like a good idea but as 2:30 Am approached, catholic guilt took over and I decided to spend forty dollars on a cab back to Bokeyland. At 4:00AM I accidentally broke a bottle of Bill’s Peppermint Oil, which crashed on the floor, and I was overcome with the smell of peppermint, which still lingers almost a day later. Woke up later than usual which was fine since most of my coworkers were trashed as well. I walked into the office around 10:00AM, one of the first in. Most everyone else was in worse shape than I was. Now I’m home, chilling out. That’s it for now. The 365th entry is anticlimactic. I’ll go one more about that some other time.

Leave a Reply