Monday, May 19th, 2025. Where I spent the last 2 weeks working at 16th Street and 5th Avenue, today I’m back to where I started. I found out yesterday by going for a bicycle ride, and I initially regretted opening the text because I immediately went into my default way of thinking that “you’ve done something wrong”.
Once again, I prove to be my own worst enemy because that was not the case at all…the woman I work with Anise, is out this week and I am filling in for her on a very quiet floor.
Not bad at all though I do prefer the location I have been working at for the past few weeks. It does promise to be a quiet week since this weekend is a holiday weekend three days off which is nice.
I did a very good bike ride yesterday, did about 15 miles and change. We did wonders for my mind, body, and spirit. I should have done it Saturday, but we know how that turned out. I’d like to think it was a reset that was sorely needed. I’m trying to dictate into my phone, but it’s having difficulty connecting to Google, which could be because I am near an Apple facility or orchard, whichever it may be.
Reconnecting with Mike was good. Another step of evolution. I did a little browsing in a nearby store, and on the stores PA system was a dance remake of Neil Young’s harvest Moon which was pleasant.
I really don’t care for this part of town, even though I do have a history here. There are a few good looking men walking around so that’s good.
The April Shmartford story began here, and it’s a good one. One night, let’s say in 1986, Jet Watley gave me four tickets for the circus that was visiting Madison Square Garden. I had told my friends, Michael and Laura, and they were interested in it. Laura’s sister, April, was coming in on the train at Penn Station, which is where Madison Square Garden is.
We made it to the train station and found April. She wasn’t that interested in going to the circus as she had made friends with 2 German tourists on the train. Since no money was exchanged for the tickets, I handed them off to some kids who asked if we were selling tickets. The kids were taken back by the fact that they were getting free admission to a three-ring circus.
Michael, Laura, April and myself wound up at Maxwell’s soon after that with the German tourists in tow. We settled into our usual spots at the bar and had a few pints. Suddenly, Laura came up to me, frantic. She was worried about her sister, April, who had lit up the bar, with a few men angling for her attention.
She was radiant, and I didn’t see the problem until Laura mentioned that April was only 14 years old. That was alarming enough to get April and the Germans over to Michael and Laura’s apartment down the street.
We smoked opium that night, and one of the Germans, who was quite handsome, passed out with his head in my lap. I didn’t know if he was gay or merely European. He wasn’t gay.