Outside the Trains Don’t Run On Time

I must stop living in the past. I was reminded and left forlorn, thinking of the first time I ever heard the word ‘ersatz’ said aloud. It was at a fashion show for Alphonso Portillo, a local designer who was having his designs shown at Lady Jane’s, a former bar at 14th and Hudson. One of the dresses Alphonso designed had a flap in the front which prompted Andrew Feldman to point out the ersatz penis. Must have been around 1984 or so. Lady Jane’s is gone, Andrew Feldman married and moved to the West Coast and Alphonso Portillo died a few years later.

I remember dancing to West End Girls by the Pet Shop Boys at an end of tax season party across from Lincoln Center when I worked for Friedman Alpren and Green in 1986. I danced to West End Girls and Kiss by Prince. Oh how I thought I was on top of my game. I worked in the file room at 1700 Broadway, lived in a railroad apartment at 201 Madison Street where I was the only white guy in the neighborhood for a few years. When my parents would send me mail, they’d send it to McSwells since they new I could be found there more often than not.

The guy who ran the file room at 1700 Broadway was Tyree Thomas, a nice guy, affable. He made me and a few other file room employees to promise to get together on New Years Eve in 1999 to celebrate with him. We all pledged but eventually went our separate ways and the plan to get together at the new millennium fell by the wayside. I left Friedman Alpren and Green after a supposed slight and got a job being the assistant manager at San Loco, a fast food Mexican joint on Second Avenue off of St. Marks Place. 1987.

Steve Fallon, a friend of the owners Darrel and Craig Nelson, and also a friend of mine whispered in my ear that it was not that good a choice to be a glorified cashier on Second Avenue. I soon agreed when I noticed that things were getting a bit crazy in the East Village and it was too much for me. I ran into a friend of mine, Errol Stewart who was playing guitar for Fetchin’ Bones who told me he had a good gig working freelance for Rupert Murdoch for $10.00 an hour.

I got myself hired and soon found myself surrounded by people like Harpy, Pedro, Excer, Ann Boyles and Catherine Cloud as well as Ulysses Sankitts and his brother, Tony. We didn’t do much of anything except smoke cigarettes and listen to music and do drugs and get wired while looking at brochures and trying to pick the oh so best picture to be turned into a slide for inclusion into a database which was a little bit ahead of it’s time. The Hotel Database.

That job ended a couple of years later and I’m still friends with Harpy, Pedro and Excer. Ann Boyles went back to Georgia, Catherine Cloud to who knows where, Tony Sankitts passed away and Ulysses still doing nefarious things in Queens Village I think.

Some times memories help, sometimes they weigh you down. Sometimes I walk around and think there are too many memories here. Maybe I should move to somewhere where I have no memories. But where?

And where’s Juan?

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