Archive for the ‘Mood Mambo’ Category

I Can Dream About You

Tuesday, June 21st, 2011

Well this has been quite a day from hell. Once again it started last night, not a good night of sleep which carried over into today. I was pretty tried and when I went to bed, Bill still wasn’t home.

A melatonin helped a bit and by the time I started drifting off to sleep Bill had come home. It wasn’t easy falling asleep after that despite some tossing and turning. Some sleep was had but not nearly enough.

I was hoping that Bill would have been home when I arrived since I wanted to share the rare good mood I happened to be in. It seems I just get really messed up in the head when I am alone. And last night I was alone for too long.

Bill apparently met up with his friend Fred after bringing his mother back from the beauty parlor. Fred gave Bill a brandy warmer shaped like a skier to give to me, as well as a snifter.

I suppose it would be nice if I drank brandy, or drank anything really. Perhaps life would be so much better if I was an alcoholic. They seem to have all the fun and some of them turned out to be pretty good writers, up to a point.

It was a day where I would have preferred to have been left alone on my lunch hour but no, the odd customer finds me and proceeds to talk to me about U2 living in his building.

He was also impressed to see me reading a book, telling me he was donating about 250 books to the United Nations. I was hoping that he would not offer me any books. And he didn’t so that worked out well.

I started reading ‘Our Band Can Be Your Life’ by Michael Azerrad. It’s all about the underground indie scene in the 1980’s. It was definitely what I needed to read to jump start my day, only a few hours late which by the way is so punk.

I also made the mistake of playing music that I wanted to hear since Calvin was out. It’s just Bradley and Thomas and I today so I played Sandinista which turned out to be too much for the lunk heads in the man cave.

The lunk heads were vocal enough to complain so I gave the controls to Bradley who proceeded to play only the very best narcoleptic jazz music. When I came back from my lunch hour it was still playing and I realized that jazz is the silliest music around, at least in the cigar shack.

And even though I was reading about how Greg Ginn enjoyed jazz (as well as thinking the Grateful Dead were the best band ever) it still leaves me quite cold. I should have gotten it by now, but it just alienates me more and more when I hear it.

Right now, I am just looking forward to going home and seeing Bill and having a day off tomorrow. And it’s off to the bibliothèque for me tomorrow.

Glad to be home, Bill is making noise a few feet behind me. It’s been a long day and a few times I stared into the abyss. Bill was great, listening to me on the phone and greeting me when I walked through the door with a great big hug.

I am so happy to be off tomorrow. This retail world is grinding me down. You might think that after a year it would get better, but it hasn’t. Still I hang in there. There are people that don’t have a job and there are people with worse jobs than mine.

Tons of spam subscribers every day, a good portion spent deleting each and every name. Are you one of them?



I Am the Spider

Saturday, May 14th, 2011

Getting started somewhat. At work in the cigar shack, the shake up continues. No shakedown though. Calvin seems apprehensive about the future, worried about there being a drop in sales when he assumes control.

I tried to reassure him that it shouldn’t happen that way, but also to keep in mind that the summer is coming up and that is usually a slow slow time for us in the cigar business as well as retail in most places except for air conditioner sales and pools.

He just left to head home to the wife and kid leaving Thomas and me to run things. Thomas is as straight as Six O’clock and it seems that a few guys find him to be eye candy.

Like right now, this gent in a red Stanford windbreaker seems to be devouring him with his eyes. He seems to be a born salesman that Thomas is, so whatever it takes to close the deal he will more than likely do.

A few old customers came in today and hung out for a few hours. Was not expecting that, we (Calvin & I) figured that they were boycotting the cigar shack and wouldn’t be around anymore.

Then yesterday a fairly famous cigar magazine released the news that Marcus was leaving the cigar shack for a cigar hut. That news brought out congratulations from a lot of customers (but still not the brain dead Bradley) and the news also seemed to finish off whatever boycott might have been in the works.

So there is a change in the air and with the wind blowing for the next couple of days, maybe weeks, we won’t see how things are settled until then.

Well now I’ve written almost 300 words so I guess I will stop here and finish when I get home. Hopefully Bill will be awake and feeling better. He came home this morning, looking like and feeling like crap. He went right to bed as I would have done if I was in his shoes.

Now I am home, Bill is awake and watching stand up comedy on TV. His old friend and former crush sent him a postcard which to Bill is cool. I merely carried it up four flights of stairs, didn’t read it since it was not addressed to me. I’m sure the postman read it.

Last night I watched ‘Something Wild’ which I hadn’t seen in a while. It’s a good movie, not great though it is funny to see the Feelies playing the high school reunion band. I bunch of people from Maxwells went to see it when it first came out.

Somebody had to work at Maxwells that night so I didn’t go. I remember that I was working at Friedman, Alpren & Green at the time and an elderly secretary saw it the first weekend and expressed her disappointment with the violence that comes out in the second half of the movie, when Ray Liotta make his appearance. He was scarier in that than he was in Goodfellas.

That’s about all that I have to write about tonight. Off tomorrow, not writing. Have a good one, smell ya later.



Greg, all of your comments go directly into the spam folder. Weep no more, you ‘control’. Good luck getting things straight.

I Gotta Know

Tuesday, March 15th, 2011

Back to work for me today and I was reprimanded soon after I came in. Thanks to the inept management and with my less than satisfactory training I messed up. I could not reconcile the credit card machine and the register.

I did try a few times but I eventually gave up due to mental fatigue. They also did not appreciate the fact that I’ve been leaving the cigar shack at 9:15 instead of 9:30. Hundreds of times I’ve closed the registers and reconciled both machine and register with no problems, but once or twice and I get into big trouble.

They claim they have scheduled me to work until 9:30 ‘to execute proper and accurate closing procedure. The extra ½ hr. is meant to give you enough time to close the cash drawer and accurately count the night’s deposit.’

So even though 99% of the time it goes smoothly and I have completed the day’s work by 9:10 now I will have to stay there for another 20 minutes and do what? Clean the glass and windows that have been cleaned throughout the day over and over, and then cleaned again by the cleaning woman?

Apparently I will have to find something to do. So no more bus riding with Hyman Gross on the way home. And leave it to me, I left tonight at 9:15 out of habit. Totally forgot the reprimand and the memo. Everything matched up anyhow. I might hear something about it tomorrow, or somewhere down the line.

Marcus and Calvin are two of a kind, with Marcus holding the leash and Calvin barking when commanded. A situation like this could have been handled in a much better manner, that is if there were competent managers running the show, but there isn’t. It’s just Calvin & Marcus. Marcus & Calvin.

I guess despite Calvin behaving like he’s a friend, he’s not. Despite him always asking if I think is this one gay. Is that one gay? Do I think Mike is gay? How about Jason? Nelson? Or any of the former regular customers who no longer frequent the cigar shack?

For a married man with a kid Calvin focuses more on gay life than I do and I’m gay. That’s why it doesn’t bother me that much (it does but I have to get over it) when Calvin poaches customers, or any other underhanded tactics he uses. He’s married with a kid and has a family to support on the hourly wages of a cigar sales clerk.

It can’t be easy. It’s not easy for me, but I do not have the same onus, and also I have Bill who keeps telling me he has my back and I know that he does.

So yeah, this is the place where a week or so ago, I erroneously wrote that I felt I was fitting in, accepting the situation that I find in from of me.

And like the conversation with Lovely Rita on the phone some time back, ‘You work retail, you really start to really hate people. And it’s not just the customers that you hate. It’s the people you work with, it’s the people you work for, it’s the people you see on the street, the people you ride the subway with, and the people you ride the bus with.’

I used to think of myself as a people person. Not so much these days.

It reminds me of that Arianna Sabatoni or known back then as Felicia of the McMann & Tate company, when Calvin and Marcus drunkenly told me how disappointed they were when they found out I was not the same person they interviewed in May of last year, Arianna said the same thing a week or so after I started.

Of course, a chick prone to riding the rails, a boozer that sneaks drinks and a dandy in love with himself aren’t really the best people to judge other people’s lives, wouldn’t you say?


I Don’t Know What to Do with My Life

Wednesday, September 22nd, 2010

Well here it is Tuesday forme, Wednesday for you. Not much I can do about it. Not much I can do about anything. I’m in the same boat as a lot of people and as far as I can tell, we are all pretty much miserable.

At least I have Xanax to get me through the day. Others use booze, heroin, whatever may be handy.

The latest twist in the saga of working retail, is that next month, I’ll probably have to participate in Monday Night Football. Not playing it, not watching it, just having to be in the store while the game goes on.

And if there is any one sport that I don’t like, it’s football. I already plan on having a good book to read and I’ll likely be writing at the cigar shop and posting it when I get home, which should be sometime around 2:00 in the morning.

I certainly wasn’t asked, but the new schedule is out and one of those games is on my late shift. I’m not happy about but who the fuck cares? I have a job don’t I? So shut up and stop complaining.

Still I continue to look elsewhere for work, hopefully getting out before the holiday rush, but no one is hiring. No word from CVS, Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts. And no word from that guy Ian who offered me a job last month.

Perhaps he’s a flake. He did say I should hear something mid- September or by the end of the month and that is rapidly approaching.

Work was the usual stupid nonsense. Redundant? Perhaps. The ride to work was more of the banal. Sat there at the bus stop as the 10:15AM rolled past me, opting for the 10:30 bis instead. It wasn’t a crowded bus, still some familiar faces got on.

No Angie Baby, but the tattooed guy from the summer walked on board. His birth date is tattooed in a digital manner and it surprisingly matched the small tea cup saucers embedded in his earlobes.

I got off the subway with about 25 minutes to spare and just sat on a bench across from the cigar shop. The Xanax had kicked in so I didn’t really care much. It was Marcus, Calvin and Don with Sean coming in after school.

Some of the regulars floated in and out of the cigar shop and stationed themselves in the back room. Since Don was on the shift, I was able to leave the shop for my lunch hour for the first time in days. It really made a difference, to be able just to go outside instead of looking at the same four walls I would be stuck with for ten hours.

I wandered over to yet another bench by the park, had a cigar and read some of the New Yorker. I miss having a camera. I have a cellphone camera, but it’s definitely not the same thing.

I left the shop, around 9:13 tonight and to my surprise it was pouring out. I never see the weather outside. Still I plugged in the second half of the Buzzcocks, A Different Kind of Tension. Mainly heard I Don’t Know What to Do with My Life, Money, Hollow Inside, and A Different Kind of Tension.

By the time I got to the bus terminal, I Believe came on and since that is a 7 minute song, I’ll round the time to 17 minutes and 15 seconds. Probably would have been shorter, but it was raining after all.

That’s about all I have to write about. Bill is sore after training with a physical trainer.

If Dogs Run Free

Friday, September 10th, 2010

Well it’s a Friday night and here I am in the cigar shop. Thought I would be leaving early tonight but it seems like that is not going to happen. We’re not playing with a full deck, understaffed as it were. Raymond got the ax this morning.

Apparently the complaint from a customer about being rude was all about him. According to Calvin, Raymond tried to throw me under a bus. But with all the video cameras here in the shop, Marcus and Calvin deduced that that I was the one actually helping the customer and it was Raymond who came off badly with the customer.

The customer who thought he was treated badly did not mail a letter to headquarters in New England but instead wrote a letter to the ultimate headquarters in Geneva. Now with Raymond being on probation since June, this was the final straw. The straw that broke the camel’s back.

Raymond did help throw together an evening of classic boxing and since he’s no longer here I am taking his place which is quite funny since I know barely nothing about boxing that isn’t considered homoerotic. Joyce Carol Oates knows more about boxing than I do.

So I’m just standing around while the guys smoke and drink in the back. Outside the shop it’s Fashion Week and it sounds like a disco. Loud music and girls in fuck me pumps, looking like harlots. Which happens to be the shoes that harlots wear so it works out quite nicely for them I suppose.

I’m rushing through this, trying to get 500 words under my belt. It sucks what happened to Raymond, but what really sucks if what Calvin said is true that Raymond tried to get me fired. I can’t believe it, but right now, What Is Love playing,outside which I always associate with Saturday Night Live.

I did see Mos Def walking through trying to look invisible. It looks like I won’t get home until after midnight, since I also have to clean up this mess after the boxing match. It shouldn’t be too bad since there aren’t that many guys.

Most of the guys who said they were coming were Raymond’s Friends and now that he’s gone, he probably called up and said not to go. C’est la vie. Less mess.

I did over $2500.00 in sales, Calvin did $2300.00. Not bad, but it was very busy for us two.

I have less than 100 words to write. It’s loud outside the shop, sounds like 2 competing DJ’s going at it. Heard Bizarre Love Triangle by New Order and a bunch of other stuff thrown on top of that.

My second cousin Kerry is into fashion night and I suggested stopping by the store if she’s in the area but she’s downtown I believe and in any event I might be in the back of the store smoking a cigar if she shows up. I won’t be able to hear her above the din.

And that’’s over 500 words. Watched two halves of a Sugar Ray Leonard boxing match. One with Tommy Hearns and the other with Kulale from Uganda. After that, Calvin said I can get the food cleaned up and I could go home. Quite happy about that, for now I am home.

Writing this on Bill’s Mac since my computer is behaving quite strangely.
Now I’m back on my computer.

My new hair style

I’m Gonna Make It Better

Wednesday, August 4th, 2010

Man it’s hummus out. Been hummus all day. Goddamn chick peas. And where’s the pita, huh? I ordered pita! Where it be? It was back to work at the cigar shop. Things moving slowly on the other front. I am resigning myself to the fact that I may be at the cigar shop longer than I had anticipated.

It’s not bad, I still have my mantra, which is “I still have a job’.After 2 days off I find it difficult to get back to work. Was it always this way? Maybe. I don’t remember. I slept a deep sleep last night and there was difficulty in waking up this morning.

No melatonin involved, just no desire to leave a barely air conditioned bedroom. I decided to catch the 10:30 bus instead of the 10:15 bus. No need to hustle, too hummus. Once again my white shirt was translucent by the time I got to the bus stop.

I did finish a cigar that I started last night while I waited for the bus but couldn’t take my usual seat since there was a stay at home dad with his infant sitting there. See? I am considerate.

But the guy is a moron and never pays attention when the bus he needs to take shows up and usually scrambles to get it together and get on the bus with a baby strapped to his chest.

The ride through the tunnel was uneventful as was the subway uptown. I was early enough and it was warm enough outside that I went in earlier than usual and put on my t-shirt and sat in the back room cooling off.

One of the usual customers who everyone seems to think is a drug dealer came in with Spanish food from Washington Heights for everyone. I did not partake since I had my own lunch.

It was Calvin and myself for a few hours since Raymond’s grandmother died last night and they wouldn’t let him leave early, instead allowing him to come in late. Since he’s still on a probation of sorts, they’re not allowing him any time off to go to Florida and grieve with his relatives.

And no breaks either. But there are no breaks for anyone even when working a 10 hour shift. One must sneak away, to get coffee, have a cigarette or get bananas for about 5 minutes.

According to Raymond, that’s how Marcus and Calvin came up through the ranks and so the cycle continues. Treat your employees badly, talk about them behind their backs and then stand back and let the buffalo chips fall where they may.

Calvin did tell me of his passion for writing poetry. Apparently he used to frequent the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe and participate in readings there, as well as having a book of his poetry published under the pen name Dushon, which is his middle name I think.

I have to say I was impressed with that.

Raymond came in, understandably gloomy. Nothing can be done and he wasn’t exactly able to fly down to Florida even if he had the chance. I did get word that Marcus was upset with my interview with a reporter from the Wall Street Journal.

I didn’t want to do it, but Calvin passed on the opportunity. You’d think that since he was the manager he would be the person to speak but instead gave it to the new guy, me. I’m sure Marcus will say something to me when I see him tomorrow.

Other than that, it was a long boring day. I didn’t hustle getting from the shop to the bus terminal while listening to David Bowie, Lodger. Still sweaty, still hummus.

One step forward with regards to Same sex Equality. Thank you Judge Walker.