Tag Archives: Stalker

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.

Tell Me Something Good

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.

Lipstick Vogue

Well it’s Friday and it’s been a weird week. I think I saw Bill for a total of maybe 10 minutes this week, all outside his office building. I guess it’s up to me to ask Bill to lunch since it doesn’t seem like he’s going to invite me anytime soon.

I’m doing my best to hold up my end of the situation but it can be a strain. It’s not like I carry around resentment all the time, just moments of melancholy and loneliness.

I just have to hang in there until Bill’s mother can get 24 hour care. Then I can go back to wishing Bill was back in Stuyvesant Town when he starts driving me crazy.

My stalker made an appearance at my office building again. I did as I was told last Friday, I instructed the building security to stall her then I called 911 and told them to send a squad car.

A few of the tenants that share my office went down to size up the situation. They saw her and saw the police doing nothing as the stalker walked away. I went down to talk to the police and they told me not to call and say aggravated harassment as I was told last week, but to say criminal trespass.

The police told me they did all they could, my fellow office drones said the police did nothing, didn’t even speak to her. The police did look around to make sure she was gone.

I went back to my desk and she called again, three times. The first two times I hung up on her. The third time I listened to her ask me if I called the police. I said yes, to which she asked if I wanted to see her handcuffed and taken away.

I said if it would stop her from fucking calling me every fucking day then yes I would like to see her taken away in handcuffs.

Having just written that I wonder if she was inquiring if I wanted to have kinky sex with her in handcuffs. How could she clean my apartment if she’s handcuffed?

Anyway bondage is not my scene. Consenting adults, go knock yourself out.
Me? I’ll pass.

Last night I watched O & RM again, can’t seem to wean myself off that. Watched The Daily Show, which had Don Rickles on. Pretty funny. But even though I think Jon Stewart is brilliantly funny, I think Stephen Colbert is funnier.

He just shines when he goes off the rails and the audience clearly adores him. I definitely need more laughter in my life.

This weekend promises to be quiet and low key but I’m open to persuasion. Perhaps a visit to the galleries again. It has been a while since I went to check out some art.

I am glad I wrote out my Christmas cards the other day and I mailed them yesterday so some of you may have gotten them already. Those of you that I have addresses for I mean.

Sorry if I don’t have any addresses for those of you in Kentucky or Colorado or if you work in a card store in the Village, not that you would want a holiday card after trying to sell them all day long- Harpy!

Keep an eye on the full moon tonight. It’s closer to the Earth than it’s been in 8 years.
There’s a Moon in the Sky (Called the Moon)

Living on the Ceiling

I’m back. Yesterday was a Day without Gays and since I am gay, I took the day off, both from work and from here. I was missed at work, and perhaps I was missed here.

Oh, by the way- Nights on Broadway. No one guessed correctly and no one guessed at all. Imagine my disappointment. I suppose I expect too much.

I was able to sleep in yesterday, not getting out of bed until 10:00 when I watched The Daily Show and The Colbert Report with my coffee and cereal. So much more enjoyable than the Today Show and much more informative.

It was pissing out so I decided to stay in. I only ventured out of the apartment to get my mail so I didn’t leave the building all day. I didn’t mind.

I did watch Step Brothers which was funny. Had me with a smile on my face mostly, not really laughing out loud though I did in parts. It was a silly movie and perfect for a rainy afternoon.

The evening was more of the same, Keith Olbermann and Rachel Maddow. I have to get off of watching those shows. Not that I don’t like them but I need a break. I need to laugh again.

Does anyone remember laughter?

Since I watched Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert earlier there was no need to record them and plus who wanted to hear Mike Huckabee’s views on same sex marriage again? Yes Huckabee, old wholesome Huckabee is a dickhead. But we knew that already.

Watched Law and Order, which was ok, but definitely not the same without Bill in the room watching it with me. I miss the big lug.

He’s been out of sorts since a theater director friend of his collapsed on the street last Thursday and died. Bill took it upon himself to get in touch with his friends daughter. He organized a Facebook page for the theater director and various people and friends have been checking in and leaving comments.

This morning, for some reason I thought (or dreamt) that the alarm clock was setting me up for the BIG alarm. There is no BIG alarm. I kept hitting the snooze button and wound up getting out of bed at 6:45.

I didn’t hustle and still I wound up in the office before mostly everyone at 8:30. No one asked about yesterday but one of the guys at the trading desk confessed that he was worried that something might have happened due to the stalker.

And the stalker called today. I told her I was out yesterday because I am gay. She didn’t understand that so I told her I was homosexual, which she did get and didn’t believe.

Didn’t stop her calling though and at one point I took the call in a deserted office and told her she was a stupid fucking fag hag bitch. Still she calls and cries in Korean.

I had some errands to run and even though it was raining, I didn’t mind. I have been wearing Bill’s fedora lately and it’s excellent in the rain.

Since I can’t figure out how to post pictures you can check it out on Facebook at

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/profile.php?id=1037999596&ref=name

So cut n’paste little doggies.

Spirits Having Flown

Here we are. In a room full of strangers. Standing in the dark, where your eyes couldn’t see me.

Well that’s me. That guy in the dark. Do you know what song that’s from?
Do ya? I ain’t saying.

Last night I watched O & RM again. Recorded Heroes, which meant I missed the last couple of minutes and have no idea how it ended. In a fit of pique I erased it. Happened the previous two weeks. Disappointment. I lived though.

Then I watched some Billy Joel footage from the late 70’s as a penance of sorts. Penance for what, I couldn’t tell you. It is Tuesday though, that much I do know.

Good news from my sister Annemarie regarding her husband’s health. The rheumatologist doesn’t think he has an autoimmune disease. They were afraid it was lupus and I know how bad lupus can be. So that’s a relief.

Good to get some good news for a change. Mostly everything I heard was bad news lately.

Woke up late this morning. I didn’t sweat it though. I was in the office by 8:30 somehow. Still on last weeks New Yorker which is a good one.

Haven’t heard from Harpy regarding this week’s issue. He’s been calling me up telling me how good the issue he is reading is. So I guess I will have to find out for myself.

The stalker phoned a few times again today. What will it take to drive her away? I just checked my messages. She called three times since I left the office this afternoon. Consecutive minutes, from 4:43 to 4:45. Each time in what may be Korean, which I don’t speak at all.

I am feeling better today, more so than last night. Last night, just doldrums of a sort. Feeling blue, feeling lonely.

This arrangement of Bill staying with his mother has been a strain. Can’t really say if Bill’s noticed how I’ve been feeling. It’s doubtful since he hardly ever sees me. Maybe five minutes a day lately.

It’s all a sacrifice I suppose for his mother’s own good. I can bite the bullet, I have to. It’s just that I wish he were here. And I’m sure he wishes the same. Bill has to do what Bill has to do. Plain and simple.

Tomorrow is Wednesday and I am taking a day off from work. Tomorrow is also International Human Rights Day, which this year has A Day Without Gay tied to it.

A Day Without Gay takes it’s lead from A Day Without Immigrants from a few years ago, when a lot of recent immigrants did not go to work to prove the point that these recent immigrants do a lot of work that gets overlooked and not accounted for, while the immigrants got scorn and abuse.

Tomorrow LGBT people are to do the same. I first heard of it via Harpy’s girlfriend’s Facebook profile and it seemed like a good idea. Plus I had some vacation days to use before the year’s end. I immediately put in for a vacation day when I heard.

Apparently I was supposed to call up and say I wouldn’t be going in since I was gay. But me being me, I didn’t follow the rules. Still I will be absent and not spending any money, which meant I had some food shopping to do tonight. It should be interesting to see how it turns out.

There is some sadness to report tonight. Over the weekend, Saturday night/Sunday morning two Ecuadorian brothers were leaving a bar and headed home.

They were a bit drunk and walking arm in arm when a truck pulls up and four big guys come out and start bashing their heads in with an aluminum baseball bat shouting about fucking spics and fucking faggots.

The assailants got away of course, hiding in Bushwick. The two brothers were brought to the hospital, where one of them reportedly died this afternoon. The two brothers were not gay, just perceived to be gay.

It sickens me when I read about Huckabee saying gay people haven’t had dogs turned on them like black people did during the civil rights struggles in the 1960’s.

It sickens me when right wing religious leaders take out a full page advertisement in last Friday’s New York Times complaining about how put upon and abused Christians have been since the passage of Prop h8.

It definitely sickens me, hearing their silence when these two brothers are assaulted and possibly killed, when Matthew Shepherd is murdered in Wyoming, when transgendered teenagers are slaughtered in their homes in Colorado and elsewhere, when other LGBT are assaulted or killed.

Oh yes, those poor put upon christians, life is just so hard for them.

How can their put their biblically approved hatred into practice when people are starting to call them on it?

Jesus must be so proud of these douche bag motherfuckers, the assailants and those in the fucking pulpits condoning such vile, heinous actions through their words of hatred and loathing.

11:10PM- The brother who is on life support is still barely alive. They are waiting for the parents to arrive and decide whether or not to take their son off life support.

Like This

Yeah it’s another friggin’ Monday. Big effin deal. Actually I don’t mind since it seems I don’t hang out with anyone anymore, nor do I actually do anything anymore, it’s good to go out of the apartment and go and do something. The fact that I get paid for it makes it that much more bearable.

That’s right, it’s time for my bi-monthly ‘oh I am so lonely/oh I have no friends’ feeling. It’s also the same at work though. I used to have jobs where I had co-workers who became friends and we would go out and do things, have drinks, cigars whatever.

Not anymore. I don’t work with any friends. I work with 3 guys who wouldn’t want to hang out with me. It’s a class thing. They’re upper class and me, I’m not.

Who am I kidding? I do have friends, in fact one of them called me last night, Pedro. He was asking about the stalker known as Min Young Ahn.

He asked if I had any protection and I mentioned that I had a hammer in my bag. That gave him a laugh since if someone were to attack me, the first thing they would do is take my bag, not heed my request to wait a minute.

He suggested getting some pepper spray in case the stalker reappears. He did give me pepper spray about 10 years ago, but I gave it to Susan at Farfetched I think. I thought she needed it more hat I did. Hopefully she never had a reason to use it. As far as I know she didn’t.

Last night I watched The Incredible Hulk. It was alright. Watching CGI characters fight isn’t that interesting as it should I guess. You just know that wasn’t Tim Roth fighting Edward Norton on 125th Street in Harlem.

Nor was it actually 125th Street outside the Apollo Theater. I haven’t been up there in a while but I seriously doubt there are that many white people up there. It was better than Ang Lee’s version, but Ang Lee deserves an E for Effort.

Stan Lee made an appearance as someone who drank some bottled soda from Brazil that was infected with a drop of Bruce Banner’s blood.

I timed it almost perfectly and watched the news and went to bed after that. Woke up at 6:00, got ready for work. Almost made it out before the Today Show started but I was too late for that.

To my horror Matt Lauer was wearing a suit that was almost identical to mine. No time to change though and I was out the door.

Got to the office, found a few messages from the stalker on the voice mail. Wondering why don’t I marry her. She also called a few times during the day and I politely yet coldly told her to leave me the fuck alone, that she’s an idiot and leaving messages on my voice mail sometimes in another language is pretty stupid.

Wouldn’t it be a very sad thing if the stalker turned out to be my friend? As crazy as she is she does offer companionship and I bet I could get her to clean this apartment.

That was a weird thing to write 28 years to the day that John Lennon was assassinated by a stalker outside his apartment building.

If I Had a Hammer

It’s Friday. A freaky Friday at that. No not like Barbara Harris & Jodie Foster or Jamie Lee Curtis & Lindsey Lohan. Last night, another quiet night. Uninspired viewing of O & RM, Daily Show and Colbert Report.

I’m sure they were worthwhile to someone but just not me. I did go to bed at a decent hour and woke up at 6:00, up and moving and out of the apartment at 7:00.

No chance to hear Matt Lauer being an idiot, though I did see he was off today and replaced by Karl Rove’s dancing partner David Gregory, saying he was basking in the glow of the Rockefeller Christmas tree.

That was all I needed to hear as I was out the door and headed to the bus stop, this time with wallet in pocket. No Casey Chasm this morning. I suppose seeing him yesterday afternoon on the ride back to Hoboken fulfilled all December obligations.

Finished last weeks New Yorker, started this weeks issue. Didn’t get too far into it, since it was the march across town to the office. No one in when I came in, which was ok by me.

Set things up, machines humming, and coffee brewing. I should have taken the day off, but I am taking this Wednesday off, December 10 as part of A Day Without Gay, to show how many gay people are in society and how things would be if we weren’t around.

We’re not supposed to spend any money either so if I need food it would be best to get it on Tuesday. I hung up some New York City proclamations for some of our sub-sub tenants, ably hammering a nail in a wall and hanging three frames up.

I suppose life with B in Weehawken for 11 years gave me some insight on how to do such things, though hammering a nail doesn’t require anything more than aim, not much skill needed.

I was planning on leaving early since I was the only one from my company in, most of my work was done and it was a Friday.

This is when it got freaky.

I wrote previously about the crazy Asian woman who was stalking me via the phone. Well today she showed up at my building, demanding to see Mr. Choi, the president of my company who had just changed his name to Choi.

The president of my company is Greg Stevens, an ultra Wasp. Couldn’t pass for Mr. Choi if his life depended on it, or if my life depended on it.

Luckily for me, the building security know me and like me and around 1:00 I got a phone call from Rocco, the head of security, telling me that Min Young Ahn is in the lobby and requesting admission.

I told him not to let her in. She was escorted out, screaming and ranting. I was surprised and grateful that the building security heeded my email stating that if a crazy Asian woman shows up mentioning my name, do not let her in under any circumstances.

It was nerve wracking and about a half hour later I went out for a smoke, after calling Rocco and asking him to check to see if the coast were clear.

He said it was after going out and checking, but I wasn’t taking any chances and wrapped my face in a scarf and with the flat cap down over my eyebrows I looked like some Irish mujhadeen.

My back against the wall, most everyone was a potential threat. I was quite jumpy and paranoid and when I went back to my desk I decided that it would be a good idea to file a police report.

I sat in the 17th Precinct two blocks away for about twenty minutes before a civilian volunteer took my report. A police officer came and talked to me, not really listening to anything that I had to say, but I listened to what he had to say which was basically unless this woman threatened my life, there was nothing they could do.

I answered no she isn’t a former girlfriend, just a case of mistaken identity. He told me that if she showed up at my building again I should instruct security to stall her, and when they contact me, I should dial 911 and they would come and have her arrested and taken away for evaluation.

This crazy woman did call me earlier in the week, one time telling me I should marry her and the other time saying that I can’t pass her off to my friends.

Believe me, I’ve done nothing to encourage her, in fact I’ve done everything to discourage her, telling her that I am GAY GAY GAY and I don’t like girls. I also told her to ‘stop calling me you fucking idiot bitch’. Still she calls.

I called up Pedro who said the expected insane and callous things, but with me knowing that he would have my back in a fucking minute since I am his ‘nigga’. His words, not mine.

I packed up for the day, various other occupants in my office concerned since this was no longer a laughing matter. I put my things in my trusty Eagle Creek bag and on top of all my things, I put the hammer I used to hang the frames earlier in the day.

I enjoyed a La Flor Dominicana Double Ligero 700 for my walk across town, listening to Led Zeppelin, for some macho posturing to enable my ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe.

I must have looked quite a sight. 6’2” me with a big cigar in my jaw and stomping around in construction boots, black jeans and black leather coat under a black flat cap pulled down low.

I stopped by Bill’s office and he was supportive, telling me all the things he was supposed to say. I could see his worry for me. I showed him the hammer as he suggested that I should write about it. Whatever gave him that idea?

We parted ways with Bill promising to talk to his friend Tom who is a former Marine and works security in Bills office building. These building security people are the front line of safety for the inhabitants and I’ve been lucky with most of the buildings I’ve worked in.

They like me, I like them and give them bottles of water or soda on the sly throughout the year. But I think they would like me regardless. I would hope so. It’s totally crazy and it’s certainly good to be home again.

It would be nicer if Bill were here, but he isn’t. Nor is Juan stopping by since he’s employed once again. It’s fine though.

Sometimes my life is just too interesting.