Monthly Archives: July 2010

I’m Stone In Love With You

It was a busy day and a difficult day. It didn’t start out difficult. It started out OK I guess. No running errands before work. In fact I took my time mostly.

I neglected to write about how I was interview by the Wall Street Journal yesterday. Or rather possibly. I don’t know if my quote will make it to the printed page. Publish and be damned says I, I publish my own damnation.

Some columnist named Evan Newmark was walking to the Wall Street Journal offices in the News Corpse building, walking down the Upper West Side and stopping at various landmarks like Zabar’s and stopped by the cigar shop.

He was inquiring in each store and stop, whether or not we felt the economy was on the rebound. I said that I thought it was, albeit slowly and people (mainly men) are still buying cigars. He asked if it was mainly monied businessmen, the captains of industry stereotype and I did my best to disprove that image, telling him bus drivers and garbage men as well as other walks of life come in and purchase their cigars.

It was a brief interview and I asked him to contact me if it were to be published. Evan Newmark wasn’t sure if it would make it to press. That was yesterday.

There was an article in today’s journal that had a brief interview with one of our customers at another cigar shop across town though and it wasn’t by Evan Newmark, but by someone else.

The Journal is a Murdoch paper and therefore anathema to me. But of course if I’m in it, I’ll buy it.

Today went alright. Some stress between Calvin & Raymond but that seemed to have been squashed by the end of the day.

Raymond is quite the gossip and whispering in my ear about how Calvin likes to have a couple of drinks after he has his lunch which usually runs over an hour and a half. I suppose it’s true since Calvin gets more chatty after lunch.

I had him going on about how he likes jazz and his opinion on who the most important jazz figure was in the twentieth century. Louis Armstrong it turned out to be. Made sense to me, since Louis Armstrong was a giant in popular culture back then.

He was also a major pot head, which could explain his smiling and laughing all the time.

My own lunch was spent outside the park on a bench, reading The Other Wes Moore by Wes Moore. He was on the Colbert Report a month ago and also came into the shop a week or so ago. Nice guy, and meeting him inspired me to take the book out of the bibliothèque.

Once again, I closed the store which seems to be my designated role. It went well but there was a discrepancy which was all my fault, ringing up a credit card purchase as both credit and cash. But since it’s been identified and accounted for it shouldn’t be too much of a problem to clear up.

At least I hope so. I would have liked to have seen the Guitar Bar All Stars by the river at Sinatra Park tonight like I have previous years but this is how things are these days.

Yes, smoking yet another cigar.

I’m Not Afraid

It’s Wednesday I think. Annemarie flew off to California this morning. She had an early flight and stayed at a hotel near the airport. When she was getting on a plane, Bill was heading off to the gym before work and I stayed asleep in bed.

I heard While My Guitar Gently Weeps playing as I eventually woke up and started my day. A shower and a skipping of the shave, breakfast cereal and coffee.

I headed out and went to the cleaners to pick up some shirts and also to the supermarket and bought some groceries, and a rain check since they didn’t have my cereal on the 2 for $5.00 deal on my cereal. Back home for a few before I changed into my suit, tie in the bag.

Headed up to Washington Street and once again my shirt was translucent in parts. My bus arrived and I got on, sitting on the left side so the sun wouldn’t be beaming upon me as we rolled towards the Lincoln Tunnel. I decided to play Madness, One Step Beyond as I walked through the terminal. Still a classic record.

As I approached the subway turnstile I was directed by a police officer that I needed to have my bag checked. I obliged of course, knowing that I had no bombs or drugs or paraphernalia inside.

Sweated as I waited for the train and then chilled as I got on the A train, strong air conditioning. Headed into the shop a bit early. No rock stars from the 1960’s nearby.

I swear since I’ve started working this gig on June 1, I lost weight. 17.5 shirts are no longer tight around my neck, and the trousers I wear also have ample room. I’m not complaining. It must be from standing on my feet 9 hours a day.

Most of the usual customers came in. I went outside for lunch and had a very good cigar from La Flor Dominicana. It was unbearably hot and humid out and I wasn’t enjoying myself so I headed back to the shop and sat in the back.

It was crowded when I left for lunch and when I came back it was empty. And that was how I liked it. Someone left a New York Post behind and I read some of it, all the while feeling my IQ slipping a few points.

Hard to believe I would read it fairly regularly, now maybe I’ll read it if someone leaves it behind, like today. Calvin joined me for a bit and we talked about Lindsay Lohan and the mosque that is planned for construction down near the World Trade Center.

Calvin agreed that it was basically my god is better than your god. It’s all bullshit to me. The afternoon went by without much notice. I closed the shop once again and decided it was too hot to hustle on down the avenue to catch a bus.

And because I did not hustle, I missed the bus by a minute.

I was alone at the gate for a few minutes before other people showed up, including 2 twenty something girls who were having a conversation about living in Hoboken and how much they like it and that they don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

That’s basically all that happened today. Annemarie is back in Arcata, safe and sound. Bill is behind me, watching Lawn Hors d’œuvre and dealing with a bottle of soap that opened in his backpack.