Monthly Archives: January 2006

Watching the Detectives

Bill spent the night in NYC at his parents. His mom and dad seem to be on the mend, which is a very good thing. I had the bed to myself which was great, though I did miss his body and the heat it puts out. He really does emit a lot of heat. Which is great in the winter and a bit too much in the summer. And of course I missed him.

Got up and dragged my ass to work, stopping off for an egg sandwich on the way and Tony asking about Bill. Tony is very much interested in Bill’s career. Perhaps as a sideline he might be a good agent for Bill after working as a short order cook at Smilers. I picked up the Voice, and was only ten minutes late getting to work. I bought a piece of pound cake and a hot chocolate for the homeless guy outside the building. I sometimes give him cigars when I have some that I’m not too fond of.

Got to my desk and did my usual whatever it is that I do. Vinnie, one of the nicest guys needed to speak with me about some vital matter. We went out for a smoke when he told me that he needed access to the tapes from the cameras. That’s another thing I do. I am in charge of security for the idiots I work for. And it’s so secretive, they don’t even know about it.

About 5 people know about it, and none of them are major players in the company. The president of the company certainly doesn’t know. Apparently a laptop vanished over the Christmas holiday weekend. So I booked the conference room and dimmed the lights and pulled out the surveillance tapes.

Vinnie and I sat there and watched 72 hours in about one hour. Very fast. Apparently the lights in the office go off about 11:49PM each night. I had no idea. We checked the sign in books with the building security, and noted that 2 people signed in on Christmas Eve. DW and AW.

Watching the tape we only saw AW come in about 1PM on the 24th and never saw her leave. Even after the lights went out. Very odd. Did she wind up sleeping in the office? It seems likely. Was she doing the she-bop on top of the file cabinets? It seems possible. Did she walk out with a laptop? Perhapsamundo.

Well being the holidays, if someone was to steal something, all you had to do is put wrapping paper on it and the building lobby security wouldn’t know any better.

“What? This? It’s a gift. No I’m not unwrapping it, and no I don’t have a building pass.”

It’s also my job to write out building passes when there is something going out that can’t really be concealed by a briefcase, purse or backpack. I had gotten an old PC from the IT guys, they refurbished it for me. The company had purchased a whole bunch of Dells and this was HP.

Gazi, the head of IT had jerry rigged a packing tape handle so I’d be able to drag it home. But a building pass was needed. Not a problem, since I’m the go to guy in matters such as this, I knew exactly what to do.

I wrote:

Please allow John Ozed to remove a personal HP computer from Knob Head Inc. If you have any questions regarding this matter, please contact John Ozed at 212.555.5555.

And I signed it,
John Ozed.

No eye batting there. We never figured out who might have taken the laptop. Vinnie thinks someone might have put it somewhere. I think it walked.

I think I’d make a great Dick.

Detective, I mean.

Umbabarauma

Yesterday was the day before the return to work, which you read yesterday. Or maybe you hadn’t yet. Well I gave away the ending, so there!

Bill was out most of the day and the gym and having an extracurricular. Fine. I had a feeling that’s what he was up to. But he denied it. I had an extracurricular myself, but mine was over the phone. This guy put the KY in Kentucky.

Very hot talk. Hot hot hot. His dime, my time, which amounted to like 10 minutes. I give good phone. Been doing it for years. Some guys go bananas when they hear the way I talk.

Bill and I tried to continue where we left off in the morning, that was the agenda. I have no problem with that. I can go several times a day. I have no emotional attachments to anyone that I have sex with, no one, save Bill. That’s how I like it. Bill has emotional attachments with his encounters, and thinks the fact that I don’t means there is something wrong with me.

I don’t invest emotion in a ten minute or a sixty minute thrill. He says he has friends from his encounters. I don’t. I simply don’t want to have sex with any of my friends. (I hear a loud sigh of relief from across the globe). I look at my friends and see my friends. I think Bill’s friends see his cock when they look at him. Hey works for him, not for me, yet I withhold judgment, only because I have no judgment.

This caused some heated discussion from 11:30 till about 1AM. I wisely moved the discussion from the bed to the couch where we sat and talked. Bill has some anger issues with himself, and with me. I knew he was playing around. It’s a feeling that I had for over a year, but was in denial about it. But the feeling was still there. I think that bothered him. Nothing else for me to do but think about what my man was doing. I had my time over the phone and that was over.

So then Bill is trying to get me and his friend Rob together so we can have a triple rendezvous.
Initially he showed me a picture that he had taken with his brand new camera phone during his playdate in the afternoon.

NOT THE ACTUAL PICTURE

And as with most pictures taken with camera phones, it wasn’t flattering.

Rob, as he is called, likes cigars, (a plus) and likes dirty talk (another plus). The thing is, Bill doesn’t. Bill smokes the occasional cigar but apparently not like Rob and definitely not like me.

Nothing Clintonesque suckas.

After I saw a better picture (pic not available at presstime) and showed interest, I expressed worry that Rob and I might have more in common with each other that with Bill. I didn’t want him to be the odd man out. I think he resented that and re-ignited his anger against me.

See, when I’m angry everyone knows it. Or at least my friends do. When he’s angry, I have no clue. Apparently in the time of our troubles he was angry with me for over a year. I couldn’t carry that. I suppose that where my father’s trait of freezing someone out comes in handy.

You piss me off, or get me angry, in a major way, you don’t exist to me anymore. It beats carrying around anger for a long time.

We sort of settled things in my eyes and went to bed. I slept well, despite his snoring and usual sleep noises, he didn’t. We went to sleep with a monsoon outside and woke up as it still raged. Oh wonderful way to get back to school. Or work. I called work and left a message saying I was going to be late.

I got back into bed when Bill checked his phone. His father had fallen in the apartment that Bill’s parents live. It was bad. Bill’s mom called at 6:30, but Bill didn’t hear the phone since I had problems with it the other night (a few writings from last week). So he switched his phone to vibrate and didn’t know there was a call and everything suddenly became my fault.

Man it was ugly. I too, was distressed by the fact that his father had fallen as well. The shit that he said, the anger he carries around with him. I actually had to say that it wasn’t my fault, but he wasn’t hearing it.

No, someone needed to be blamed, and since I’m his partner, why not me? Why not the guy who actively encourages him to be more of a physical presence to his parents? Not some disembodied voice over the phone. Why not? I’m there for him in most everyway. Why not use me as a sounding board for anguish and guilt?

He was running around the apartment, not listening to anything that I had to say. He saw the look on my face and finally he left, punching the staircase ceiling on his way downstairs.

I got on the bus, dazed and went to work.

Bill father is on the mend now. Bill’s mom injured her back lifting him up. His cousin Elise was able to come over and help out Bill’s mom when lifting his dad.

Took all day but his father is getting somewhat better.

Bill sounded ok too.

Me? I think I’m seeing the future. And it sucks.

And I was back at work where I really didn’t want to be at while starting the New Year.

Win Win situation.