Monthly Archives: December 2005

Wolves, Lower

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Yesterday after I had gotten my belligerent bagels, and my newspapers, I had decided to treat myself to some donuts. It was fairly busy and Sabrina took my order. Then she put the box in the bag, and walked away. I stood there for about 2 minutes, totally ignored and unseen. So I turned around and walked out the door. Of course I kept looking over my shoulder, thinking I was being followed.

I know it was wrong, but I just wanted to see if I could do it. Yes, I am a donut thief. The lowest of the low. I think Miguel Pinero wrote a play about Donut thieves, called ‘Short Pies’. Ouch. Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

Needless to say, the donuts were horrible. Sour, bitter donuts. The worst donuts ever. The kind that in order to lose the taste of these foul doughy products was through repeated cups of coffee throughout the day.

Still the taste of illicit pastries weighed on my tongue all day. That and the aftertaste of coffee. I mentioned to Bill my crossing over to the dark side and wanting to make amends. He suggested that it would be the right thing to do, and it would be good karma as well.

On the bus back to Hoboken we passed Lois who was with a friend. I told Bill I wanted to go to Dunkin Donuts and make amends. We got off the bus at the same stop as Lois. She met her partner Fred at the bus stop and mentioned to him that she wanted to go to Dunkin Donuts. I told them my tale of woe regarding donuts. Lois was amused. Couldn’t get a grip on what Fred might’ve been thinking.

Bill went into Village Market to buy his vitamin sugar water, and the three of us went into Dunkin’s. Lois ordered what she wanted then the girl behind the counter asked me what I wanted.

I told her that I was in the store earlier today and had gotten too much change and I wanted to give it back and gave her five dollars.

My conscience was assuaged somewhat though I knew she was going to put the fiver in her pocket as soon as we left.

I used to be a get over, always looking for the easy way. I used to shoplift when I was a kid. Just for a thrill. Nothing else to do. I used to steal blank Memorex tapes. Stole quite a bit from Two Guys department store. Me and my friends also used to pick up something that cost maybe a dollar, put it in a shopping bag and go to the courtesy counter saying we needed to return this ruler and we didn’t have a receipt.

They would take the ruler back and give us store credit. Then we’d go buy some gum and have 85 cents left to play pinball or video games.

A pock marked store dick eventually caught me. Had the tape in my pocket and had just walked through the door. “Excuse me son, could you come back into the store?”

“I forgot to pay for it.” “We’ve been watching you the past few weeks. Come with me”

He brought me downstairs to a wood paneled office. He had me in tears in about 30 seconds. He had me write out my confession, telling me what to write. Then I signed it. Then he tried to have me banned from the store.

I told he couldn’t do that I need to come here all the time. Then he said I couldn’t without my parents. I saw him once while I was there with my mother. He was trailing someone else in the store. I was under the radar. I put the ruler in the bag.

So It Goes

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Saturday of Saturdays. Relatively active. No, not really. A mellow day, which included a nap, food shopping, dry cleaners and a haircut. Not much motivation. Cold out. Chatted with the usual suckers online. Tired of them fast.

Bill and I saw ‘Capote’ tonight. It was good.
I finally see the resemblance between Phillip Seymour Hoffman and myself.

It was unnerving for me at least. I don’t know that if the tables were turned he’d feel the same way.
Only way to find out is to get my mug on the silver screen.
Christine Keener was good as Harper Lee. Very understated. Phillip Seymour Hoffman played the title character as a predator, as an author, and as someone who falls in love with a murderer, albeit at arm’s length.

Once again I was subjected to the hype. It is a good movie, but for me, when I hear so much about a film, when I finally get around to seeing it, I sometimes, if not most times, feel that it doesn’t live up to the hype. No one’s fault really. Just the PR machine in overdrive. Chris Cooper was quite good also. I enjoy seeing him on screen and glad he’s doing well. I met his wife Marianne Leone back in the day when they lived in Hoboken. Friends with Martha Griffin et al.

Tonight was also the Aids Dance-A-Thon tonight at the Javits Center. I was a celebrity escort/production assistant for a few years running. Nona Hendrix one year, Cyndi Lauper another year and my last year was Rosie Perez. With each passing year more and more drugs found their way up my nose and into my system. Everyone else was doing it, at least the Hoboken crowd I was working with, so why not me?

It was generally a lot of fun to work, and a strong feeling of self importance was a given. Must’ve been the head sets. Well, the headsets and the coke. Coke always makes one feel so important. Sometimes I had gotten so ahead of myself and wired that I had to swipe drinks from wherever possible, or I simply would’ve ground my teeth into nothing put piles of powdered enamel.

Rosie’s entourage were drinking a bit too and I probably kidded myself that they couldn’t possibly know what was going on with me. This was the year Madonna showed up. She finally deigned to make an appearance, and was escorted past the table where Rosie, her entourage and myself sat. I do remember Madonna looking like crap. Shaved eyebrows. Freakish strange Swiss Miss buns on her head. Truly a fright. Also Rosie, who had met her before, introduced herself. Madonna smiled shook her hand and continued on her merry shaved way. I remember Rosie saying to Madonna, “How you are” intending to ask, “How are you”.

I never got to see Madonna do or say whatever it was she was scheduled to do, and I don’t think I cared much to either. The other volunteers were all so psyched to see her. It was the same group of volunteers each year. This was becoming a tradition. It wasn’t supposed to be though. This was supposed to be funding for a cure for AIDS.

But it was turning into an annual thing. At the end of the night, when we were saying good night to each other, I told some of the others, that perhaps we won’t be meeting again, perhaps they’ll find a cure this year, with funding from the Dance-A-Thon. That didn’t go over well. Some were offended.

I was never asked to volunteer again.