Tag Archives: Stalker

Never Get Burn

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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.

Tell Me Something Good

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It’s Tuesday. In a much better mood at that. I did think about going to McSwells for their holiday party, but it’s always so awkward. I’d go and see Roda but he would be wanted by so many that I would stand around wondering what am I doing there.

Rand and Lisa went and I bet they had a good time. They always do. And the wonderful Pat Longo was DJing and I’m sure he did well. Whether or not any one danced is another story.

As much as I loved to DJ at the McSwells party, it was always a stressful affair, including one time Irwin Bicuspid was sitting next to the speakers and complaining about the music being too loud. He is or was a DJ at WFMU as well as my brother Frank.

No one would dance at the holiday party despite my best attempts. It didn’t matter since I wound up getting as fucked up as everyone else. New Years Eve was a nerve-wracking experience as well.

No one would dance at all before midnight when, no matter what year it was, I would play Prince- 1999. That would get those asses shaking not to mention those butts. And of course I would get as fucked up as everyone else, usually spinning from 9PM until 3 or 4AM.

I would usually be situated by the bar so it was an easy reach to the right for a fresh cocktail or pint of Guinness. But somehow I acquired the foresight and knew that I couldn’t keep on partying like that.

Plus I wasn’t in Hoboken anymore, I was in Weehawken and the walk home wasn’t as kind as it used to be. So I eventually faded from view at McSwells.

Steve Fallon eventually sold the place to a guy I never had the misfortune of meeting though I did see the huge beer vats that he had installed in the front room. He gave up after alienating most of the staff and regulars and it fell into the hands of Todd Abramson and 2 others.

When I did go back I didn’t know anyone, except for Roda who signed on after the Fallon era, after listening to the fun stories that Rand and Julio and myself told him about what fun we had there.

It wasn’t fun anymore, Todd had taken control and the regulars moved on, sobered up or died. He’s still there though and it would have been good to see him last night. Perhaps Friday I’ll pop in for a pint and give him a holiday hug.

Last night was quiet instead. I watched Heroes instead of recording it. I was glad that I did, especially with the Obama-esque president at the end. A black president. You only see his lips and his eyes, never his whole face.

If I recorded it, it more than likely would have been cut off like the previous weeks. It did give me a chuckle. He did a better job of a Barack Obama impersonation than Fred Armisen.

So I’m in a better mood today. The stalker phoned and Vivek took the call as he was at my desk. He told the stalker that I am being fired because she wouldn’t stop calling. She asked him where his ethics were, firing me at Christmastime.

He told her that if she wants to call me she should call Ireland starting in January and hung up the phone after wishing her a good life. I wished I would have thought of that. Still I forwarded my phone to the fax machine in case she calls again.