Tag Archives: Scotch

I Really Like Him

Well it certainly feels like winter has arrived though it’s not official. Very cold and blustery outside today. It is just as the forecasters announced on the news the past couple of days. It looked like it was going to rain when I went out earlier so I brought and umbrella. I was off to see Raymond at the smoke shop. Shlomo was in as well as his partner, Israel. It was a good opportunity to have a smoke and chat with Raymond. He gets along really well with Shlomo and Israel and it is through Raymond that I’ve been in their good graces.

I enjoyed a smoke and using whatever expertise I had from the last job I held I was able to help various visitors to the smoke shop and turn them from visitors into customers. Just out of being a nice guy. I’m certainly not getting paid. I would like to see Shlomo and Israel succeed and I don’t mind helping out. If they want to throw me a free cigar, that’s fine. And if they don’t or can’t, well that’s fine too. Whatever I can do to help them out while I am just hanging out, I do.

Bill came home this morning and soon went to bed. He usually drives to Atlantic City tonight but there is a different itinerary. He’s not driving to Atlantic City, he’s not driving anywhere. No, he is home tonight and will drive tomorrow to somewhere different. The neighbors are still doing their illegal construction, furniture in the hallway, of course it’s the part of the hallway where the lights are out so if one isn’t careful there is a chance you can walk face first into a sofa. There are a lot of things moving in and out of that space.

Mr. Wonderful Jim Mastro was on TV earlier. The local NBC affiliate had something about small businesses in Hoboken today, how they are doing after the storm and there was god old Jim, playing a mandolin. He also had screen time, telling people to shop local (in Hoboken). I’ve done my bit, getting that ukulele earlier this month during the dark ages and I hope other people purchase items at the Guitar Bar (as well as Guitar Bar Jr.) and the other stores in town. Hoboken still needs help despite city hall saying 93% of businesses are back.

The Path train is still out, no trains to and from Hoboken. The Erie Lackawanna station is open There are plenty of buses and there are plenty of buses to take people into the city and back. The word is that the really big supermarket will be out of business until February of next year. And of course there are the rumors. In the smoke shop a guy was talking about how Radio Shack was looted. It wasn’t. Nothing really bad happened crime-wise in Hoboken. No hordes, no Visigoths descending from Jersey City Heights to pillage the mile square city. Where do these people get their information?

Another Girl, Another Planet

Never Get Burn

Oh my my. As far as I’m concerned this has been a really crappy Friday the 13th. Really. Started out with me waking up a bit late at 7:00 and listening to the news on the radio as I made the bed and hearing of the plane crash in Buffalo killing 50 people.

Waking up to bad news like this certainly sucks. I puttered about the apartment, getting it together and heading out to catch the bus. I’ve gotten choosy on what bus I catch. I prefer a coach. It’s probably Bill’s influence from his bus driving days but also it’s a more comfortable ride.

I sat and started reading the New Yorker when my phone vibrated. I try not to talk on the bus, don’t want to be ‘that guy’, but it was my brother Brian so I took the call. He was asking if I was working today and I told him I was en route.

He was working at Hoboken high school. I told him to safeguard his valuables. We chatted and told me what was going on in his life. Total craziness and not in a good way. It’s not my problem and I’m not belittling his situation by saying that.

I only say that to explain I won’t write about it here. It’s his problem and all I can do is offer my support for this particular hell he seems to be going through. And he has my support 1000%. I’m disappointed in some of the players in his tale of woe and I feel bad for what they’re going through.

We wound up on the phone for almost 30 minutes. So much for not wanting to talk while on the bus, but I didn’t really talk outside of saying, ‘Really?’ That’s fucked up’ and ‘I am so sorry you’re going through this’.

I told him I was getting off the bus and he should call me later on if he had the chance. He didn’t call though, but I will always be there for him, come hell or high water.

After that I walked across midtown to work and found my mail box filled with voice mail from the stalker. Her name in Min Young Ahn, but I call her that fucked up Korean bitch.

She was crying and talking in Korean on 2 messages, the rest were in English, telling me she loves me and she was going to move and how could I have said all those nice things to her yet treat her so coldly.

She showed up at my building the other day during my stressed out moments of trying to book a flight for Vivek and his partner. I told security once again that she is absolutely not allowed into the building.

It all depends who is at the security desk, but I guess when they enter her name in the system there is an instruction to notify me immediately. I found out the next day she communicated with security by talking to them while looking at the ceiling.

I had a man date with Steve from my office who was let go when he came back from his honeymoon in October. He still uses the facilities and in January we had decided on Friday afternoons to go have a cigar and drink some scotch at a cigar lounge across the street from his apartment.

At 2:00 I met up with Steve and we picked out some of Harpy’s favorite cigars, the La Flor Domincana Double Ligero. I had a flask that used to belong to my father and filled it up last night with some Dewars.

We sat in some comfortable chairs and sat and shot the shit for over an hour. Good cigars and good scotch made for a pleasant buzz in an otherwise crappy day. We parted ways, he and his wife were driving out to the Poconos and I was going back to the office to get my stuff.

In the office, the right wing nuts had posted a picture of Bill Clinton, who I admittedly do not care for, saying that the current economic crisis was all Clinton’s fault.

My reaction was to print out a Wanted for War Crimes poster featuring the worst president EVER on it and pinned it discreetly in my cube at such an angle so that the main wing nut could see it behind my computer screen if he happened to glance in that direction.

The fucked up thing for me was, ‘if’ the current economic fiasco was Clinton’s fault, why didn’t the douche bag dip shit that followed him do anything about it? Of course they wouldn’t be able to answer that.

Perhaps they would mention that douche bag dip shit was too busy protecting the country from another 9/11 attack, which of course happened on his watch. I’m too busy myself preventing such an attack by hanging a bag of shiny rocks on my windowsill to the left of this computer.

Still buzzed I walked back across town and saw Bill for a few minutes. He was good at calming me down, after I told him all about what was going on in my world and the satellites orbiting. I’m glad he could be there for me when I need it and he says I’m there for him, even when I don’t know it.

We parted ways since it was getting cold out and he wasn’t dressed for it, so I left him with his high beams and continued west to the bus terminal.

Walking down 43rd street I ran into Amiable Alan, also known as Adam Ames. We worked together in 2006 at McMann and Tate aka Wolff Olins. It was odd seeing him in midtown and I asked him if he was still at McMann Olins.

He told me no, that he was let go as well as a lot of people. The company had a account with Washington Mutual and we all know how Washington Mutual turned out. I guess it was a good thing to get out of there when I did.

We caught up for a spell, he’s doing freelance design work and was off to another gig. I walked to the bus terminal and caught a coach bus back to Hoboken. I sat and read Sarah Vowell, The Wordy Shipmates which of course is funny, but the walking and the scotch made for lidded eyes and I closed the book and stared out the window instead.

Bought a Mega Millions lottery ticket, perhaps worth 85 million dollars. That could come in handy when I win it.

Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.