I’m transported to 1978. Working in the book warehouse. Distracted by everything; music, cigarettes and men. In 1978 I turned 16 and joined the workforce. The music I listened to was mainly Top 40 with the influences of my siblings. Peter Frampton loomed large, though he was on his way out of my sphere of music. The Frampton backlash had begun.

Frampton Comes Alive was a gigantic smash and the pendulum swung in the opposite direction with the next album, I’m In You. I saw the tour in the summer of 1977. It was my second concert. The previous year I saw the first concert, Elton John at Madison Square Garden, I went to see Elton with Annemarie and Brian and a friend of Brian’s.

My brother Frank took me to see Peter Frampton the next year much to his endless embarrassment no doubt. R2D2 was a special surprise guest. Frank ran into some friends who were at the show and were heading downtown to a club called CBGBs to see some band called AC/DC. Frank figured that I was too young for something like that so after the show we went back to Lodi.

In 1978, turning 16 with working papers I was in the book warehouse fora few hours after school. I remember working alongside a guy with blonde hair from Elmira, NY and discussing the intricacies of the I’m In You album. Was that really Mick Jagger on background vocals? Who or what was the Rocky in Rocky’s Hot Club? Yes it was Mick Jagger. And Rocky was a dog.

It was a simpler time then. My enthusiasm for Peter Frampton faded away through no fault of his own. There were a lot of more interesting things happe in music and Pete Frampton did not make the cut. David Bowie threw him a lifeline years later but it was not enough to resuscitate his career.

Meanwhile, in the present day, the agency that placed me at the fruit stand may have dropped the ball. Since April of last year, I have been getting paid on Thursday. Today being Thursday I checked my bank account to fund my funds quite low with no deposit made.

I sent an email yesterday requesting some personal time off at the end of the year and received a email saying I had requested incorrectly. I needed to see the balance of personal time off that I had accumulated. They have access to this information I am sure. I replied with the information they requested.

After finding my direct deposit not going through, I sent them an email asking why happened. They have not answered yet. Perhaps the computers that handle payroll were off yesterday and could not process the fucking task they have been doing for the past year and a half. The Cupid stunts at the agency are quiet.

I suppose I should not have tempted fate when I stated that I really do like this job. More specifically, the fruit stand part of the job. The cupid stunt part I am quite disillusioned with.

Back in the day, a coworker, Gian East, told me that I was the rare white guy who looked at people when walking down the street. Apparently white people don’t do that. This was in the 1990s so there are even less white people looking at people walking down the street. I still do, but millions more do not, they stare at the devices in their hands.

The truth is, I’m an old school Gay. When one cruised back in the day you had to look at people (men) and size them up and you could not do that if you stared at the ground.

Gian East was a good guy. I’m sure he still is. He was very handsome and very humble and a very good audio engineer. An unfortunate aspect though was he was gay friendly up to a point. The concept of me being gay was OK, the fact that I had a partner, Bill, was hard to swallow. That was too bad. We still remained friends via social media, until Meta killed off two of my accounts.

I believe Gian married, and his wife had twins then Gian and his wife separated. I posted a really good photo of Gian from a Summerstage afternoon and he insisted I take it down so I did. Perhaps his humility was in play. He was also a Christian and that could have been a factor in the removal request. I met Gian’s family once, his parents worked for the Bahamian consulate I believe and Gian had a brother.

Gian was uptight about my being in a relationship with Bill. It was awkward. Then there was Kevin McBean. That’s not his real name and I did find that out sometime later, I forgot it and really haven’t gone back to find it. He was likable and handsome as well. I first met him when I was at Right Track Recording.

Somehow he got in and had a resume since he was looking for work. The resume was written on tissue paper and I took pity on him and rewrote it on proper 8 ½ x 11 paper. He was grateful and we hung out a few times. There was always a pretty girls willing to put up with his Kevin McBean personality. And like Gian East, though seemingly worse than Gian East, he could deal with his gay friend having a partner.

One night, soon after Bill gave me a ring, I was on cloud nine. Kevin wanted to know why I was floating around the room. I explained and apparently Kevin might not have known that I was gay. It never came up and yet it was never denied. The look on Kevin McBean’s mug said it all.

I think straight men can be fine with friends being gay, and I’m talking about men, not women, and when they find out about men in relationships with me, all they could think of is sex and they find that disgusting and the thought of their friends doing something like sex freaks them out and displeases them. I’m sure it happened to some family members as well as friends. I just keep on keeping on. It more than likely explains a lot. I don’t stick around, I move on.