Tag Archives: Susquehanna Investment Group

I'll Take New York

It’s a Monday and the roller coaster continues. I’m sure you would like to hear about the latest Susquehanna story. Well over the weekend, confidential documents were not found and the thought of contacting the government and paying 60.00 for each document copy seemed a bit much.

I was now relatively content to stay where I was at the cigar shop and resume searching for a new gig in the new year. I was off yesterday and spent some quality time with Bill, went to Stack’s for some breakfast but the line was too long, even to sit at the counter and eat.

We decided on bagels and a nice walk around Hoboken, stopping by the Guitar Bar and chatting with Mr. Wonderful Jim Mastro for a few minutes. Back home with bagels and the newspaper and some document searching.

Bill was off to TekServe to get some things done, I stayed home and watched the DVD of The Runaways. Can’t say I was much of a fan of the Runaways but the movie was somewhat entertaining though I don’t know how true it was.

Dakota Fanning played Cherie Currie and Kristen Stewart played Joan Jett and the creepy Federal agent from Boardwalk Empire (Michael Shannon) played the creepy manager Kim Fowley. It was OK and not about to make me run out and get the Runaways Greatest Hits.

Bill came home in time for 60 Minutes and the Simpsons and then we both watched Boardwalk Empire which was as good as usual. After that Bill went to bed while I watched Lennon Naked, a docu-drama about John Lennon in the 1960’s. It was alright, something I’d have no need to watch again.

Sleep followed and I fell fast asleep next to Bill. He was up earlier than me as is the norm around here. I rallied about an hour later and got myself together after a decent breakfast. Out on the street again, waiting for the bus.

The uneventful bus ride, and a walk through the bus terminal to catch a train. Spoke with Bill before I headed into the cigar shop. I figured it would be a good day, perhaps a good week with Calvin on vacation.

Marcus and Bradley were in the humidor mostly, I stayed outside. Marcus made it a point to tell me that the backroom is not to be opened until noon, no exceptions. Marcus playing by the rules. While he and Bradley were rearranging the humidor, a gentleman using crutches came in.

I did my usual, ‘let me know if there is anything you have questions about’ spiel. The gent said he was merely browsing and I let him browse away. A few minutes after that, the gent on crutches was on the other side of the showcase in front of me when another customer walks in.

The other customer elbows the gent on crutches to the side and pulls out what may have been a Cuban cigar (like I’m supposed to be impressed), saying that he’s going to go into the back to smoke it as he’s clipping the cigar.

I mention that he would have to buy a cigar first before he does that. He remarked that I must be new there, he’s a regular customer and he’d never seen me before. I tell him I’ve been there since June and I’d never seen him before either.

He asks for Marcus, finds him and complains that I won’t let him in the back without buying a cigar. The rule is, if you want to smoke a cigar in the backroom, you have to purchase a cigar first. Another rule.

Marcus disposes of this rule allowing the ‘regular’ customer to do whatever he pleased. So the rude customer headed into the backroom and Marcus came out to talk to me. He didn’t think it was right that I gave a hard time to the customer and I told him that I didn’t think it was right for the customer to elbow the gent on crutches out of the way so he can clip his illegal cigar.

Marcus said that he knew the customer was difficult and I corrected him saying the customer wasn’t difficult, he was a scumbag. Marcus’ take on it was that the gent with the crutches didn’t say anything so there was no problem, just with my attitude.

It was a nice afternoon so I went out to my usual spot for lunch, on a bench by the park. I called up Bill who offered his usual support. Then I called the recruiter, not really knowing what to say. I did tell her I couldn’t find the documents needed for my background check.

I also mentioned that I was in touch with the bookkeeper and the former president of the last company and both were willing to write letters on my behalf stating the dates that I worked at the last company.

It does get convoluted here. Seems the former president was college roommates with the middle name of the company that seems to be after me. Six degrees of separation indeed! I called the former president and bookkeeper and both said they were willing to do what they can, and write on my behalf.

And the recruiter called again, letting me know that the new company really wants me and will consider the letters of recommendation as well as allow me to give two weeks notice at Marcus’ cigar shop.

A roller coaster of a day, wouldn’t you say?

For No One

Well it’s been a special day for me. I am quite glad. Susquehanna here I come, right back where I started from! Yes indeed. Broad Street, where the broads are is in the future. Not my future perhaps. But the future nonetheless.

I was offered a job and I took it. Leaving Sally in the alley. I’m quite happy. Not so much for the money but the incentives and whatnot should make up for it.

Suckling at the teat of the United States, though refreshing and I admit a bit kinky, hasn’t been the roll in the hay as they might say in Bala Cynwyd.

I’m sure to know all about Bala Cynwyd down the line once Susquehanna Investment Group shows me it’s spread sheets, at which I excel.

It was a comedy today. I decided to take the subway rather than sweat my was to the offices and found a rest room to freshen up in since I was early enough.

I decided to use some paper towels to mop myself up and in so doing cut my hand. I didn’t think it was so bad but then it started to bleed. I was trying to tie my tie and in so doing the back of my hand rubbed against my shirt leaving smears of blood.

That couldn’t look good. And the tie was a mess and needed to be tied. There I was in the mens room muttering ‘fucking hell’ loud enough for the stall set to hear. I didn’t care, I was bleedin bleeding.

So I wound up using water to rinse out the blood stains and eventually did tie my tie. In the interview, we sat, we talked, me with suit buttoned up to cover the blood.

I was offered the position we talked about last week and I played coy.

Actually I played Koi, doing my bit of the interview like a fish, my hands flapping on the side of my face, gill like, and my mouth making ‘O’ shapes, resembling a fish. They loved it and I believe my jumping into the pond is what set me apart from the other applicants.

A nice walk to Times Square was in order where I saw Bill who was positively ecstatic about the job offer. So ecstatic that we walked over to Godiva and he bought me a bag of dark chocolate truffles. Yum.

Not exactly fish food but celebratory in any event. Rode back to Hoboken on the Path train and getting off in the Hoboken station, who do I see heading into the city, but Tariq. Twice in two days.

He was off to Washington Square and I was headed to the rest room. I wished him good luck busking in the park and I continued on my way.

Stopped by the Guitar Bar where I told Jim Mastro and he too was quite happy on the job offer. Texted Brian, Julio, Harpy and Pedro. They responded in order, Great news!, Great!, Hooray and ‘LOVE IT! You’re the man Son Son.

I don’t know why, but Pedro always calls me Son Son despite the fact that I’m a few years older than him.

So all in all it’s been a good day, the weather has been gorgeous. Already I’ve gotten the ‘welcome to the family’ email from the Susquehanna Sallies. It’s been a good day, wouldn’t you say?

That's my Bill

That's my Bill


10.20.10 555JOT 003

Your Eyes

I’m pretty tired. Pounding the pavement today. It actually went well. Walked from the Path train to 40 Wall Street, where I took the elevators to the Third and Fourth Floors.

It wasn’t the dank hole I expected it to be and I didn’t see any dank holes like I expected to see. I don’t know why the Susquehanna Investment Group has such a bad reputation.

You might think that a privately held global investment, trading and technology firm servicing securities markets worldwide would have their slack cut for them but apparently that’s not so.

Arthur Dantchik, Jeff Yass, Steve Bloom, Eric Brooks, Andrew Frost and Joel Greenberg all sent their warmest greetings and regards. Yass and Dantchik are a pair of regular jokers, with the knock knock jokes and other Pennsylvania humor.

They seemed like good guys though behind closed doors, the refrain of ‘watch the teeth, watch the teeth’ did raise some eyebrows. I didn’t stay too long, just long enough to make my presence known. Susquehanna Investment Group certainly gets it’s name in the news often enough, oddly though it doesn’t involve insider trading, at least not yet.

Soon I was on my way to Broad Street, to Barclay Rex. Nice situation, Wall Street area, good looking men in their suits and ties. I’d be happy to be one of them should the need arise. I had a good meeting with the manager and the assistant manager.

Never had a meeting before where I was offered a cigar. Of course I said yes and sat there smoking a cigar and answering questions. I answered honestly and truthfully and that seemed to be what they wanted to hear.

No trying to figure out what that might be, just saying it and them looking a bit amazed at my responses. After about an hour our meeting was over. They said I could sit there and finish the cigar so that’s what I did.

Walked over to the train and headed uptown. Saw David Allen Grier on the street as I made my way to see Bill. Also took a look at a spot where Tariq said he sometimes plays for the tourist dollar but the only people besides tourists were sketch artists.

It was good to see Bill. He’s so supportive, saying things about how good I looked and really happy to hear that the meeting went so well. I was certainly glad to be able to tell him some good news for a change, especially after me being a bit gloomy the past couple of days.

We walked over to Godiva where Bill bought a bag of dark chocolate truffles for me. They were almost as sweet as Bill. Walked over to Macy’s after that. They’re having a sale on eyeglasses so I checked them out. Of course the frames on sale were crap, and not my style.

I did see some nice ones that were more expensive and maybe the insurance will cover them somewhat. Despite all the care I put into the eyeglasses I have now, somehow they’ve wound up scratched. And I rarely used paper to clean the lenses, always used the special cloths that were recommended.

Maybe I’m paranoid but one of the last times I was at Cohen’s Optical and had them fix a screw, I could swear they were given back to me more scratched than they were originally. Another meeting is scheduled for next week and Bill suggests I wear the exact same thing for my ‘call back’. Seems like a novel idea.

In that case, I had better get the shirt and tie to the cleaners forthwith!

Forsooth!

That's my Bill

That's my Bill


Me, smoking 'their' cigar

Me, smoking 'their' cigar

Foggy Notion

Well it was just one of those things, just one of those crazy things. But of course I must get through last night first. And what was last night all about? Not much really. Watched TV. Didn’t watch Rachel Maddow again.

Watched Lawrence O’Donnell filling in for Keith Olbermann and contrary to what some T shirt designers think, I don’t get my info from MSNBC exclusively, like they get their information from Fuck Snooze.

I watched the Watchmen DVD on loan from that fantastic socialist institution, the public library where one can pick up Mein Kampf or the modern day adaptation, Going Rogue by today’s distaff Yakov Smirnoff.

Bill came home and went to bed almost immediately. He’s up so early and off to work, then after to work he runs up to Harlem to stage manage a play then back here where he has me waiting for him. He does have the sleep apnea thing happening still but now has a mouth guard of sorts.

At first it worked well but the past 2 night’s he’s been snoring. I nudged the nudge last night, telling him he was snoring and he awoke and said, ‘I am?’ before falling asleep again. When he was kissing me goodbye this morning I mentioned that he was snoring again.

He felt like I was attacking him, and his response was, ‘Are you sure it wasn’t you? You snore too you know.’ I responded that I was sure it wasn’t me since I was awake when I noticed. He left, I went back to the usual as of late, uneasy sleep.

Lot’s of fighting in my dreams. Not very relaxing. Woke up and did my thing. Checked the email, a comment waiting for my approval. It wasn’t signed by Maurice from lamoes.com, or the Susquehanna Investment Group.

Nae, this was by Sally Mae. Same sentiment though. Some Beckian acolyte complaining that I get all my info from Rachel Maddow, and my ‘rant’ about Senator Bunning of Kentucky, blocking the extension of unemployment benefits was basically unfounded.

I’m sure Sally Mo likes the attention I’ve afforded her/him/it and I was feeling generous, enough so that I decided to help her/him/it with their t shirt/coffee cup/greeting card shingle on Cafe Press. I mean should she/he/it lose their job at Susquehanna Investment Group she/he/it will always have her/his/whatever rag trade to fall back on.

It’s no Sham Wow I’m sure but hey, charity is charity and some dogs should be thrown a bone every now and then. I’m not bitter and I’m not twisted and I certainly don’t drink the Kool Aid Tea that she/he/it seems to partake in. It’s all there under the other day’s Astronomy Domine entry.

See for yourself, you be the judge, Sally Mo will be the jury (and we know how that will end up). Other than stepping into the gutter to comment on her/his/it’s comments, it was a good day. Went to the Socialist building, you know, the library where I ran into Eileen Lynch.

You don’t see someone for years then all of a sudden you keep running into them. We had a nice talk for a while out on the sidewalk.

Then a phone call from Julio. He was on Washington Street inviting me to lunch. How could I refuse? Had a good time with him.

Been a while since we actually had a meal together. Lot’s of things talked about. Alexander is getting better, which is definitely good. Julio’s mom is getting better too. Julio & Stine are looking for a house to buy.

Somewhere close to Hoboken since Hoboken is out of their price range. I would suggest Bala Cyanide but well, you know, there seems to be something in the water out there.

Cloud

Turn the Heater On

It’s a Tuesday. Not necessarily a sunny day but it was OK enough to get me out of the apartment after job searching for a good part of the day. Last night’s cannabis free dreams involved being in a taxi on Eighth Avenue with a former co-worker who was a composite of a few different co-workers.

In the dream I started out wandering lost in the Port Authority bus terminal. Larger and more sprawling than it actually is. Caught a cab with the co-worker, and as we sat in traffic the cab driver decided to take a short cut which was basically a parking lot with only one way to get in and out. Bumper to bumper traffic.

The co-worker left when we got back into the traffic and I eventually woke up. Made some coffee, had breakfast and showered. Yes, all blah blah blah. Living on the 5th floor of a building means that it’s generally cooler five stories up than it is on the street.

I usually turn on the heater built into the stove for a little while to warm things up but found that when I went to turn on the heater, there was no heat. I checked and the pilot was out. SO I lay on the floor trying to turn it on to no avail.

I texted Julio to see if he could help me with it, but they have a similar problem with the heater in the bedroom and even a handyman like Julio couldn’t fix it so they’ve been using a space heater. He suggested calling PSE&G for an appointment so they’re scheduled to come here tomorrow between 8AM and 12PM.

And since the stove which is pretty old is not under warranty it could cost us some money for the visit. The stove works, but not the heater. I called Bill and left a voice mail for him.

I’ve been doing good. Avoiding most TV news. No more MSNBC on during the day. Instead I watched the Gilmore Girls and wanted to move to Stars Hollow. I watched a repeat of the Daily Show from last week and then headed out.

Wandered around Hoboken, making my way up to 14th Street and then over to the river. Bill called back a few hours after I called and he was his usual ebullient self. He asked what I was up to and I told him I was walking around Hoboken, glad to get out of the apartment.

I also remarked that I was glad to be away from people and he laughed at how I was alone in the apartment and now alone outside. I told him that there was no one around where I was walking, that that was what I meant.

He asked how I was feeling and I told him I was reluctant to tell him about being a little depressed. He didn’t mind hearing it, saying that I would be there for him if the situation was different. And it’s true, I would be and I have been.

But this has been going on more and more lately, hence my reluctance to say anything. Then Bill had another call and said he’d call me back. That was about 6 hours ago, not that I’m counting. He’s at work and doesn’t need to hear the crap I’m going through.

Walked towards the train station, circled around Pier A. In the distance I saw Tariq, packing up his guitar and heading away from me. I could have yelled out to him but decided not to.

I made my way home, and called my brother Frank. It’s been hit or miss with him lately and decided not to let him interrupt. Told him about the guitar playing and the keyboard playing the other day and even how I’ve been a little bit depressed lately.

He suggested playing the guitar some more and once I got off the phone with him that is exactly what I did. And he was right. It took my mind off my problems and gave me a feeling that I was accomplishing something.

I’m trying to build up a repertoire for when I actually try my hand at busking and for the past couple of hours I’ve been playing Paul Simon songs courtesy of the Ultimate Guitar website.

One song in particular stands out and it’s a from a video by Gary Weis from the early days of Saturday Night Live, just footage of people coming home for the holidays at various terminals and meeting their loved ones.

I always think of Gary Weis’ video when I hear Homeward Bound, and just sent him an email telling him so. Another person sent an email to him saying basically the same thing. A short 3 minute video that resonated so deeply 30 years ago, still resides in my mind and my heart.