It’s been a long day. Didn’t start out all that well either. Apparently there were one or two things that I neglected to do at closing last night and when I came in I heard all about it.

Calvin asked me if I was in a rush and oddly enough, I wasn’t. Sheer bloody absentmindedness I reckon. It’s really the only excuse. It only took a couple of minutes to fix under Calvin’s watchful eye.

I felt I was being punished though and was sent to take inventory in the humidor. About a half hour later, a large shipment of cigars came in via UPS and rendered my inventory count obsolete. I was also told that Marcus wanted to see me about something.

But Marcus flew the coop before I had a chance.

I’ve been on the ‘under consideration’ list on a website for a job that I am well suited for. A job that I want. A Monday through Friday job, either 9 to 5 or thereabouts. And the money is better than what I am making now.

Though I’ve lost weight doing this job at the cigar shop, it really isn’t what I want. A few weeks ago I got an email from one of the counselors at this website, requesting a meeting.

I told her I would be available on July 12 but never heard from her. So today I sent another email and she replied immediately with a phone number. So I called and arranged a meeting with her tomorrow morning at 10:30.

I asked Bill if he could print out some fresh copies of my resume and he said he would and leave the copies on my computer. I had a nice cigar at lunch that was recommended by Marcus and sat on a bench near the park as is my wont.

Not much to do but sit and smoke after I chatted with Bill on the phone. A homeless woman walked by muttering that some Wall Street types smoke cigars and suck cock. She meant me I was sure since I do look like a Wall Street type even though I was quite a ways from Wall Street.

Then she tried to light her cigarette butt which she found on the street and couldn’t before muttering and cursing and walking away. I was back in the cigar shop a little while after that and found Calvin putting the new cigars away, saying that he wanted Raymond and myself to deal with the customers.

That was fine by me and Raymond didn’t care since he was off to smoke his lunchtime cigar. I wasn’t that busy, though there was one or two assholes that came into the shop. Time moved as it often does and I helped a young couple buy some cigars for the girl’s father.

The young man had what sounded like a thick burr and I asked him if he was from Scotland. No, it turned out he was from Liverpool. He and his girlfriend were in New York with the British Navy and were heading back to ol’ Blighty on Saturday.

It was a pleasure helping them out and I saw them off just as Marcus reappeared. I still didn’t know what he wanted to see me about but I think it had something to do with a Sommelier class he has from time to time. It involved cigars this time which is why I was asked to sit in on it.

Basically so I could run and get whatever things Marcus needed during the class. I sat on an uncomfortable bench in the backroom and stifled several yawns as Marcus went on. Occasionally I ran and got items that Marcus needed and finally was able to smoke a cigar with a room full of people that never smoked cigars before.

Eventually I was able to close the shop, taking my time and making sure all the things were done properly. Marcus stayed in the back with his students as I headed out. I decided not to go to the Eagle for cigar night.

Actually decided this morning not to go. I didn’t want to lug around a change of clothes and with this interview tomorrow morning I made the right decision, inadvertently. Which is how some of my decisions come to be.

I started to listen to Elvis Costello & the Attractions, Armed Forces as I left the shop and midway to the bus terminal I saw the Liverpudlians, Paddy and Haley. I decided to slow my pace and direct them to a comedy club.

The comedy club I was thinking of was actually closed which was odd since it’s almost always open. I directed them to Times Square where there are dozens of young wannabe comics handing out fliers for their prospective clubs.

No copies of my resume available. Bill didn’t tell me he couldn’t print them out.