I wore a suit today. Well a suit with a dress shirt and no tie. Funky enough without the tie, an air of coolness. I was also wearing braces, or suspenders. I felt great and I think I looked great. It was a beautiful spring day. I was playing ‘Heart of Glass’ by Blondie and transported to my last months before graduation in high school. There wasn’t much to do for seniors, no real homework. I used to hang out at the Texaco gas station down the block from my house on the other side of Route 80.

I was hanging out with Henry Venegas from high school. We used to smoke cigarettes and listen to the radio with Henry occasionally pumping gas for a customer. Sometimes I did too. Henry was a cute dude, always, and I do mean ALWAYS, grabbing his crotch. He wasn’t gay, he was straight as six o’clock. But he was constantly pulling his pud. He liked disco and Aerosmith. I liked punk and new wave.

We would just hang and smoke and shoot the shit. He was going into the Navy, I was going to work. College didn’t appeal to me at all. I had the awakening when my math class was told by Sister Reginald that no one is going to make you go to class when we go to college. I didn’t realize that. I hated school so much that going to college wasn’t a real option anyway, but the fact that no one would make me attend, well that just sealed the deal.

Sister Reginald was a tough old nun by the way. She taught my worst subject, Algebra. On my final algebra exam in high school I wrote an essay stating that it would be futile to send me to summer school because I will never understand algebra. I swore that I would never have anything to do with algebra, ever. I also begged her to let me pass, because my parents would definitely kill me. And I was a senior, damn it!

Well she passed me, earning a special spot in heaven, conveniently knocking Sister Mary Octavian off her perch. (For those playing at home you can do a search in the archives for ‘Octavian’ or go to the January 2 posting called, Do Ya)

Today was a nice day. I took my time going to work, just enjoying the morning. Things are relatively quiet in the Village at 8:15 in the morning. I got in ten minutes later and started up the office. The new thing is Iced Tea and Iced Coffee in decanters that hold over a gallon. I took the decanters out of the refrigerator and put them on the counter.

Once again I greeted most everyone, and a few times, some of them greeted me first which was pleasantly surprising. It was day eleven and things were shaping up to be pretty good. They were used to me, even walking around in dress trousers and braces with dress shoes of course. I was used to them. We’re settling in as it were.

I walked around a bit for lunch and headed back in after getting my usual salad. Afterwork I smoked a Padron and walked up Seventh Avenue to 23rd Street and Sixth Avenue listening to Outkast ‘The Love Below’.

Twice so far I’ve worn this particular pair of loafers to work and come home wearing different shoes. Usually at some point in the day I get fed up with the loafers. They are either too big and my feet rise out of them as I walk which makes me feel like I look like a drunkard. Last time I had a back up pair of shoes, today I bought a pair of Airwalks. Immediately I felt better but risked looking dorkesque wearing a suit (sans tie) with sneakers.

I got over it as I walked up Broadway from Canal Street to the Ninth Street Path station. This is the Village and dorkiness equals hipness after a few years. So I guess I was cutting edge. Next year in Men’s Vogue, believe me you will see a model in a Brioni suit wearing Vans. Mark my words. Mark them!

The day started out ok. There was a raging brushfire in Brooklyn that could be seen from Hoboken. Some abandoned factory burnt down and started setting fire to the debris on the riverside. It was still burning when I got to work and took some pictures of the smoke.

The day was quiet again and I had busied myself with the morning routine of making coffee, turning on machines and checking emails. I greeted most everyone that walked in with a hearty hello and a good morning. Most everyone was unaccustomed to this so I got some strange looks usually as they returned my greeting.

Felicia came in and she seemed in a good mood. After a little while she came over to me and I asked how she was feeling. I asked about her cancer, which was a melanoma, cut from right above her hip. She showed me her stitches and I tried to reassure her that it wouldn’t scar much. She said, “Are you crazy?” and lifted up the back of her shirt to reveal a nasty ass scar on her back by her shoulder blades. She explained that her skin doesn’t have that much elasticity and tends to leave bad scars. So much for reassurance.

Since we were on a good direction I mentioned that Bill and I have been going to therapy, and since the sessions have moved from Mondays to Fridays I will need to be out of the office at 5:30 on Fridays so I could travel uptown. She was most receptive. How could she not be, after showing me her scars?

The rest of the day was good. Felicia and I interacted many times and found each other’s company enjoyable. I am starting to think we might have possibly in the best sense of camaraderie, not to mention trust, turned a corner. Many escape clauses in the last sentence.

Just saw that Applebee’s commercial featuring a ghostly Sammy Davis Jr. Creepy. Speaking of a Davis, I might go to another Basquiat show with RoDa this week. Possibly crash the opening. That might be fun. That might be Thursday. We shall see won’t we?

Came home to Hoboken tonight to a spectacular sunset. The pictures don’t do it justice. You had to be there.