Thursday again. I was feeling comfortable in the belly of the fruit stand, perhaps too comfortable. I think the bloom is coming off the rose. People are edgy and it does not suit me well. I can’t help but react to how people present themselves to me. If they’re arrogant then I might have an aura of arrogance thrown back at them.

Today there was a fruit stand worker, with an air of European arrogance. I helped him out yesterday and today was the same problem. I’m sure the problem lies with him and his methods of receiving texts and emails, but he seemed to be shifting it onto us or more specifically, me.

He applied for a permanent pass on Monday and we tell them it might take a week or two though more than likely it is just a few days. It covers our butt somewhat and is supposed to provide relief but this malaka wanted to know why it was taking so long despite informing them that the task is in someone else’s hands.

Then there is the attitude of the pretzel woman, who slithers past. I focus on the fruit stand computer, determined to not have any eye contact with them. I’m old enough to be her abuelo. There is another person, used to be friendly but now not so much. They used my shoulder to cry on a few months ago when they had boyfriend issues.

She has a list of three names that she needed printed out. I just scanned the email, not seeing the names just figuring it was her signature and of course, after the fact that is what I actually read. Technically, she could have just kept it on her phone, and no one would be the wiser, but that is not where we are at right now.

I feel like I have egg on my face. I could be making more out of it than necessary, as I am prone to do.

Leon Bridges was here. I would have liked to meet him or shake his hand since I do enjoy his music. Alas, his arrival was in the hands of someone else that I have mentioned before. And it was during my lunch break, and working alongside Violet, she needed to go on break when I would’ve liked to go.

Her reason was medical related so of course, I deferred. I think she is back from her break and working her corner of the fruit stand in the belly since the phone rang and it was immediately answered.

I am supposed to be back at my little fruit stand tomorrow and all signs point to that being true. Earlier this week I had mentioned that I was ok with being here more often. The anxiety I had has lessened. I don’t have a say in the matter so wherever they want to send me, that is where I will go. And today has been the more awkwardly day of the four that I’ve had in the belly of the fruit stand.

Silly me, I took a request with a spreadsheet attached, thinking it would be a couple of dozen names, but when I looked at it, it was over 200 names. I soldiered on, finding a groove, losing the groove, taking a break, and a few hours later finished the task in front of me.

Also had some banana pudding, which was a nice late afternoon treat. It had been quite a while since I last had banana pudding, which was possibly famously made by Rome Neal. I can’t compare the two so I would call it a tie.

Mr. Noodle and Laszlo Papp

Glowing like the metal at the edge of a knife

Working in the belly

Team player, me

I’m in the belly once more and find it to be an agreeable place. Not having anxiety that used to precede my required attendance, I’ve been enjoying it though the location is still sketchy. It wasn’t always this way but that was before I had been working here on the regular.

So, Mr Noodle. Mr Noodle was a character created by Laszlo Papp. He had hopes of being the next Charles M Schultz but alas, it never happened. I’m not sure if Laszlo’s heart was truly in it. He also bought a black Rickenbacker bass in hopes of completing that Paul Simenon look. He had the hair and the cheekbones.

I last saw Laszlo on Astor Place where he was smoking a cigar. We chatted briefly and he gave me a cigar that he had, an El Rey de Mundo which was a good cigar, not my go to but any port in a storm…

At the belly of the fruit stand, I’ve been bust and enjoying it. It certainly makes the time go faster. Yancy has Ben setting up the music for my area, and it’s chill out music which is more than fine with me. In fact I’ve been building my library listening to cool stuff that I’d never heard before, or remakes of songs that I had heard before.

I have mentioned a few times yesterday that if the belly wants to make me an offer I would be most receptive to it and would more than likely say “pass the kool-aid”

Less than an hour to go for the workday for me. I didn’t think I would be able to use that tablet that I had been using the past few times for these here blog entries but there you have it, or rather, here I am. I figured I would be typing at the computer at home but suddenly a window of opportunity was opened and in flew a moment to make a journal, a blog entry, a post.

Bill is on his way home. Mike is at his crib. Mike seems to truly love me and Bill. We don’t judge him. Bill doesn’t fight with him but you well know that I have had my arguments with him from time to time.

The persona that Mike has created online for twitter is 180 degrees from who he is. That persona is why drew me in, and now I prefer the sexless friendship we have. I do not have sex with my friends. I sometimes read the comments for his posts, and they’re very graphic.

A few months ago I mentioned that Mike and I were both bottoms, which he steadfastly denied, though he has posted photos of his buttocks asking for breeding. Which to the majority of gay men, would constitute being a bottom.

No judgement here. No need. Mike has some nice buttocks, though.