Monthly Archives: August 2010

I’ll Be Gone

Oh I was too tired to post last night and I got in late, a little after midnight. I don’t even want to write tonight. But here I am, writing. In fact I’ve been willing distracted from writing tonight.

Oh, a status update on Facebook from a friend of a friend of a friend? I’m there, not here. But I’m back.

Last night was a staff gathering at the Carnegie Club after work. I was hesitant since it would involve drinking and I don’t like to drink without having eaten something.

I had hoped that I would get a chance to wolf down a burger but Marcus and Calvin were around and they frown on that sort of thing.

I did have a strange encounter with a customer in the humidor. I’d never seen this gent before, he was new to the area. He just opened an office in the neighborhood and was surprised to find it was difficult to get staffing.

I mentioned that I had been an office manager in my previous job and that I missed working a nine to five, Monday to Friday job. He asked if I had a resume and would I mail it to him. He’s the CEO of a college intramural athletics thing.

It was a surprise and I told him I would email the resume, to which he replied he wouldn’t be interviewing me, but someone else would, probably after Labor Day. I plan on emailing the resume tomorrow morning.

Marcus, Calvin, Don Birch, Raymond and myself walked the handful of blocks to the Carnegie Club and were seated in the back. Very nice cigars were handed out and I had a Woodford Reserve.

Some finger foods, mainly cheese and crackers were ordered which turned out to be dinner. The cigars were excellent, as was the bourbon. The conversation was drowned out by some Russians sitting at the next table, but still, Marcus loves the sound of his voice and he dominated the conversation.

Calvin seemed to be nodding out. The word in the shop is that Calvin likes to have a nip throughout the day, his back water bottle hidden from the sight of the customers. I never notice but Raymond and Don Birch have both said that he reeks of booze after lunch.

After about an hour and a half Raymond, Don Birch and myself had our fill. They had off today and live in Manhattan. I had to make my way back to the mainland. We left Marcus and Calvin in the cigar lounge and headed west, Raymond distracted by McDonald’s.

Don Birch hopped on a train and I made my way down to the bus terminal. I had to wait in the upper level since it was past 10:00 and the buses were running on a different schedule. Different, stranger people on the bus and I buried my nose in a book about Andy Warhol.

Hope after midnight and in bed at 12:30. Didn’t sleep that well. Only had 2 glasses of bourbon which amounted to a finger. $15.00 a glass. A bottle is about $40.00 in Hoboken. I certainly wasn’t drunk, but still tossing and turning made for a strange day It was a slow day, few regulars turning up.

Still Calvin and I did well on the cash registers. Earning that 1/3 of 1% commission.

I was disappointed with the fact that Richie, the Colombian cleaner that comes in weekdays was being replaced. Calvin had a run in with him and with Marcus’ blessing the die was cast. It’s too bad, Richie’s a nice guy but he’ll be alright.

He works for a firm and will likely be shuffled over to another spot. I over heard Calvin making the call this morning but didn’t say anything except to ask hours later, ‘Where’s Richie?’

It was a long day and I’m glad to be home. Work tomorrow, off Saturday, back in on Sunday and off Monday and Tuesday. I miss having a nine to five, Monday through Friday job.

Open mouthed Bass?

I’m So Bored with the U.S.A.

Just got home. Checked Facebook. My brother Brian posted a YouTube clip of Elvis, Suspicious Minds. I don’t need to hear the song or watch the video to have the song become an ear worm and burrow it’s way into my brain.

And perhaps I’ve infected you with the mere writing of Suspicious Minds. For that I apologize.

Woke up this morning around 6:00AM, the usual for some but not for me. Bill was kissing me goodbye and also telling me about a bus hijacking in the Philippines, 8 passengers killed, the bus driver lived. Horrible news to wake up to.

I didn’t understand what Bill was saying but despite not knowing what he was saying was enough to cause the next 2 hours to be fraught with tension, with me not being able to go back for a proper sleep.

I just talked with Bill about it and he said he didn’t tell me anything about the bus hijacking, just wished me a good day and that he would see me tonight. I suppose that is what caused the tension.

“I love you baby, have a good day and I will see you tonight” “Leave me the fuck alone!”
Ah, we still have the romance in our relationship.

The work day was the usual drudgery. We had a big shipment of cigars in yesterday and it took four of us to put them all in stock. Today it was learned the order was not for our cigar shop. They found out before I came in and all 7 boxes we were packed and sealed to be shipped out again.

That all happened before I came in and it accounted for the harried looks on Marcus and Don Birch. The day was mediocre at best. I held up my end though. Raymond came in an hour or so later, after attending to family matters.

One of my first customers was a rather rotund gent Boob Zimet. I did my best to help him in the humidor and duly wrote down the cigar numbers for inventory.

I rang up his purchase and asked him if he wanted any of his cigars cut. “Yes, but not by you.” WTF? Marcus overheard that and came running out to make sure I didn’t slug the guy or comment on his ever widening girth.

Turdlike Boob Zimet waddled out and Marcus did a quick search for him online. To my surprise it turns our pus factory Boob Zimet works at the rather large law firm that Jason Flom’s dad used to work at. In fact, fat, old, & stupid Boob Zimet is a senior partner or something like that.

Marcus confirmed that the guy was a real asshole, and that’s really not Mike’s style to use language like that. It’s my style actually.

I found out that I was hired to replace Harold, not just fill in for him while he was attending the natural bodybuilding/rent boy conference in Miami Beach.

That’s what I was told when I started, but now it turns out they wanted Harold out of there and were looking for any excuse which they found when they looked at his attendance records.

Tomorrow night I have to attend a gathering of the cigar shop employees. It may be at the Carnegie Club, or it may be at the shop. Drinks and cigars are in order. I’d prefer the Carnegie Club, but for Don Birch it would be a hassle. I’m the one who lives out of state, on the mainland. He lives in Washington Heights.

In any event, I’d rather not, but I must so that’s where I will be. I don’t know if I’ll be writing or when I will be writing if I do. So that remains to be seen I guess.

Tonight’s walk from the shop was courtesy of Talking Heads, More Songs About Buildings & Food. From Thank You for Sending Me an Angel to The Girls Want to Be with the Girls. 15 minutes and 19 seconds.

Last night’s walk was from a Led Zeppelin playlist, from Good Times Bad Times to Misty Mountain Hop, 4 songs in 15 minutes, 58 seconds. And a thanks is in order to Gary Nelson for reading and commenting on this misbegotten blog.

The Doppleganger of Bobby Zimet


The woman was talking loudly behind me in French.