Monthly Archives: July 2010

(I’m) Stranded

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Late news breaking, late news breaking. Not really news, just the usual blah blah blah from me. Just got back from a late snack with Julio. He with his hummus and pita and me with a burger. And some Stella Artois to accompany the meals.

A good time, a nice talk. He’s still a good guy and a good friend.

It was quite a hot day today, 90 degree range, closer to 100 degrees than I would have hoped. Quite humid out, so much so that by the time I got to the office I was drenched with sweat.

I don’t take the subway on weekends since the service really falls off on Saturday and Sunday. I did stop by the Farmer’s Market and picked up some cookies for the co-workers again. Just a little something nice, something sweet to glue the team together.

No Richard III auditions today. But there was a different type of royalty that visited the cigar shop this afternoon. Specifically the Prince of Morocco. Really.

There were a number of Middle Eastern guys standing outside the shop for an hour or so this afternoon, no one paying them much mind. Then a few of them came in and checked things out, followed by a handsome man in an emerald green polo shirt.

He checked out a few cigar punches and almost didn’t buy them until I demonstrated how they are used best with a large ring gauge cigar, which just so happens to be the ring gauge I prefer. He bought 2 cigar punches.

Then he asked to see some lighters and I showed them to him. He picked out 5 different lights and then left, leaving someone else to pay the $1500.00 bill.

It was my sale and I couldn’t have completed it without the help of Raymond, Don Birch and Sean, so I treated them to some milk chocolate covered pretzels from Godiva. They were surprised by my gratitude, so unaccustomed to behavior like this.

Luckily for me the pretzels were on sale, 3 boxes for $10.00.

It was the highlight of my day. The Prince also stopped by the leather goods shop next door where he dropped $20,000. It was more low key after the visit from Moroccan royalty. The 4 of us just passing the time, Don Birch waiting until he can leave at 7:30.

Sean, Raymond and I hung I there until 9:00. Sean and Raymond split after that, I stayed behind to close up the shop as that is my duty.

I hustled down to the bus terminal in 15.9 minutes, from Something About England to The Crooked Beat from the Clash’s Sandinista.

It being the weekend people in the terminal didn’t know of escalator protocol, instead of staying to the right if you’re not climbing the stairs on the escalator. I opted to climb the stairs next to the escalator, taking 2 at a time to make my bus.

I was doing well, listening to the Clash until I got to the top step where I tripped and landed on my hands and knees. It must have made for a sight for the escalator clots.

I gathered whatever it was that I dropped and quickened my pace to my gate where I found the bus had departed. In front of me was an Asian dude who started talking to me about how hot it was. As It got more crowded and I inched toward him I could smell the booze coming out of his pores.

I was glad to make it to Hoboken and glad to have a late meal with Julio who couldn’t stop laughing when I told him of my fall at the top of the stairs. I knew he would get a giggle out of it.

Still quite hot and Bill’s in Atlantic City.

I’m Happy But You Don’t Like Me

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And now it’s Friday. Annemarie is in Arcata, Harpy in in the Washington Heights section of the Dominican Republic and Bill is on the Garden State Parkway headed to Atlantic City after not driving a bus for the past 2 weeks.

He drove a bus once actually and I believe this was during the work week.

It’s been a hot day, temperatures in the 90 degree range, with tomorrow promising to hit 100 degrees. Luckily I can dress casually when I work. And I’m lucky to be working in an air conditioned store.

Today was a bit of an odd day. I headed in early to rectify the problem I had with closing. Don Birch was there already and fixed the problem. He and I had a nice little chat. He’s going to be taking the Series 7 test to become a stock broker and is expecting a package.

He doesn’t want Marcus or Calvin to know that he’s looking to leave and so he asked me to keep an eye out for the package and stash it away and also give him a call. Not a problem I said.

Raymond is also looking to get out, Sean is going to college and probably not stick around once that is through and I of course am looking for a regular 9 to 5, Monday through Friday job. Don Birch, Raymond and Sean have both spoken with me separately telling me their plans to get out, being so dissatisfied with the way things are run there.

This job is just a stop gap for me and I am on a few email lists that send me listings every day. I’m currently under consideration for one position, and have been under consideration for that position for about 2 weeks now.

The day at work was rather cool, Calvin was out and Marcus is still listed as being on his honeymoon. A number of Australians came in buying cigars and thrilled to know they can smoke in the backroom.

Most of the customers were nice enough, but there was one that was an absolute nightmare. He came in a bit lame in one leg. A semi-regular customer that no one else wanted to deal with, so it fell to me. I followed him into the humidor, and he immediately and loudly mentioned that he didn’t need help.

He said it twice and I mentioned that I wasn’t going to help him, that I was there to write down the numbers of the cigars so it will be easier to check out. He was also blind in one eye and scrutinized every cigar price listed, complaining that things were so expensive.

He would pick up a cigar and eyeball it and then put it back. I maintained a distance, but finally spoke up when he started putting cigars in the wrong place.

He seemed to be on medication and also reeked of booze and started screaming that Raymond wouldn’t talk to him the way I did and scurried out of the humidor like Laurence Olivier in Richard III yelling that I was stalking him.

Raymond calmed him down somewhat and Richard III stayed away from, before heading back into the humidor and screaming loud enough that anyone outside of the sealed room could hear him plainly. Don Birch was going to call security but I talked him out of it, preferring to have Raymond finish the deal.

He soon left and Raymond mentioned that on top of the booze and the meds seeping through his skin, he also smelled like he soiled himself. It was truly a strange scene, topped with my repeating, ‘A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse’.

I headed home about 2.5 hours after that, making it from the shop to the bus terminal in 13.6 minutes, thanks to the first 3 songs from King Crimson, Discipline.