Another tired day, but I am happy to report I have tomorrow off. Quite a nice thing to write and even better to say. I’ve been home for about an hour. It was a long day. I had to open the store and left the apartment at 8:20 to catch the 8:30 bus.

When I got to the bus stop there was no bus coming and I checked the schedule. Today being a federal holiday meant the buses were running on a different schedule. I started making my way to the Path train and while in between bus stops my bus appeared.

I had to run into the street and wave my arms hoping the bus driver would stop. And stop he did. I got on the bus thanking him profusely. A Scandinavian woman asked if I had 5 singles since she needed change for the bus. I had 4 singles and that was good enough for her.

Once in the city it was a walk up the avenue, the only people out were tourists, most people had off for the holiday. I’m obviously not most people.

There was drama of course at the shop. Marcus and Calvin were upset about a few things, mainly because part timer Sean was on tape hanging out with the customers in the back room over the weekend for a few hours, when he should have been working.

Raymond is on thin ice still and the fact that he met up with Harold who was let go last month. Harold was persona non grata then and is still. He seems to be just fucking with Marcus and Calvin and used Raymond to do so.

I did not get a talking to like Sean did or like Raymond will tomorrow. I guess I’m doing alright, though it was mentioned that we shouldn’t be using our mobile devices while on the shop floor, because if you go to Hermes or Louis Vuitton, you won’t seen the sales staff doing that.

And we’re in that league according to Marcus.

The day started out slow like the other days the past few days. Marcus handed out cigars for the staff in honor of his upcoming wedding this weekend. They had his and his bride’s name printed on the cellophane.

I put it in my cigar box in the humidor and did whatever it is I did at the shop. Finally I was able to have lunch and I went out in the 97 degree weather and found a bench under a tree by the park and had a pretty good, expensive cigar that I had for free.

One of the perks you see. I read You Never Give Me Your Money by Peter Doggett, almost done with it. Just in time too since it’s due back at the Bibliothèque on Wednesday. They all come off badly the Fabs. Sniping, drug and alcohol abuse and endless lawsuits.

I’m in the last chapter. Maureen Starkey, Linda McCartney, and Derek Taylor are all dead and George was just attacked by a deranged intruder in his Henley on Thames mansion. It’s enough to make you give up the Beatles myth.

That’s about it for today. Off tomorrow and I’m happy to be home right now with Bill.

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