The day starts, sleeping as much as I could since Bill was not snoring last night. My knee seemed a bit better tonight, not so much a pronounced limp, more like a slight limp as I was getting around the apartment.
Bill was up and active already, he was headed into his office to catch up on work that he hadn’t done, or wasn’t able to do during the week. He told me I was beautiful and he kissed me goodbye as I was heading into the shower. Tears welled in his eyes. I told him he was crazy and saw him out the door. I love him so.
I got myself together and headed to the bus stop about an hour later. Descending down the four flights of stairs didn’t mess up my knee that much but it didn’t help matters either. I walked to Washington Street a half hour early since the Saturday schedule is not reliable at all, plus the extra time meant I wouldn’t have to hustle.
Chatted with Bill who by this time was in his office. I boarded the bus, uneventful ride into the city while reading the latest Mojo with the End of The Century Ramones on the cover. Taking the escalators, elevators and handicapped ramps in an effort to avoid stair cases. I made it up to the cigar shack area and called Bill once again.
The ace bandage I wrapped around my knee had come undone and was trailing behind me. I cursed it while talking to Bill on the phone and Bill tried to be positive whereas I was all negativity. I think he was fed up at this point and made a hurry to get off the phone.
He seemed busier at work with no one around than he is with everyone around like during the work week. I went to Duane Reade and got a new Ace bandage, self-adhesive since the old school method was no good. Those clips fall off at the most inopportune moments.
Made it to the cigar shack after picking up a coffee and dealt with my first customers, a young Japanese couple who spoke little English. While completing the transaction the phone started ringing.
I’m working with the Bradley today and he was unavailable. I answered the phone while helping the Japanese couple. The caller asked “Am I the one in charge of the Fancy Schmancy pens”. The cigar shack sells some fancy schmancy pens which I am loathe to advertise. I ask the caller, who he meant by in charge.
He replied, “I live on West 88th Street and we obviously speak a different form of English up here.” I say that I was just trying to clarify what he said, it could have meant whether or not I was in charge of ordering the fancy schmancy bullshit.
He mentions that he will be coming by the store after he swings by the United Nations to pick up a translator for me. He wants a gold fancy schmancy pen, which I see we don’t have. I give the phone to the now visible Bradley and let him handle the call. The Bradley tells the caller that I was actually helping out other customers and also eventually tells him that we do not have what he is looking for. I do expect the idiot scumbag customer to come in and make some more trouble for me.
Last night while I was counting money, Calvin suggested that I start coming earlier than my shift so I could relax and have a cigar in the man cave before my shift starts. I almost told him that I value my time away from the cigar shack than I do while in the cigar shack.
But I held my tongue, realizing that that is something he might prefer to do but it is definitely not for me.
Now I am at home. That’s it for me. Been a very long day and it’s over. Have to get up crazy early to be at the cigar shack at 7:00AM.
Bill’s not home yet, still at work. I will stay up and wait for him as long as I can. Took the recommended dosage of Naproxen, so a little out of it. Not writing tomorrow, a day off, but with inventory I might have something to write about. But I hope not.