Monthly Archives: October 2010

I’m Sure of It

What a long day it’s been. Of course any day coming back after a day off is bound to be a long day. And today was just that. No weird dreams that I can recall from last night, no sightings of Stine and Alexander this morning. No, none of that.

Positive reinforcement from Bill before he left in the morning came in handy as I trundled through our messy apartment. Made some coffee, poured cereal into the bowl, added milk and then stepped into the shower.

It made for a perfect mess, milk and cereal, and coffee in the bathtub, but I was not one to care. Lucky for me it was a hot shower, which made for some decent, albeit soapy coffee. I dried myself off and ate whatever I could salvage from the shower water, taking out random hairs as I ate and shaved.

Soon I was out the door, but had to turn back when I realized I was naked. And I still had about 90 minutes to get things right. I used the time wisely, sending out resumes to people that didn’t want them. I did get some things together for an interview scheduled for tomorrow morning at 11:00AM.

Send those positive thoughts at that time please, eastern standard time of course. Anything before or after 11:00 would be a waste and could go to someone else, someone who might be up for the same position. That wouldn’t be good at all, at least not for me.

After donning a suit and tie and daring to wear a pair of shoes that are still new enough to make my foot bleed by the end of the day, I walked up to the bus stop on Washington Street. It was a bit drizzly and wet.

I stood there and let the 10:15 bus go on without me, preferring to catch that elusive white whale of NJ Transit, the 10:30 126 bus. Call me Ishmael. And don’t tell me you lost my number you bastard. An uneventful bus ride, followed by an uneventful train ride.

I sat across from the cigar shop and talked to Bill on the phone. I’m seem to be somewhat more coherent hours after waking up. It was a fun talk, but as we chatted I heard a thud or two. The call ended and as I started to head to the cigar shop

I noticed a starling nearby, looking like it was in bad shape. It took me a minute but I figured out, the starling was what made the thud. It flew into the building behind me, and there it was breathing it’s last. I could have put it out of it’s misery but really, it isn’t my style.

Instead I headed to the cigar shop where there was no one to put me out of my misery. Instead I merely did my job and wound up selling a lot of cigars and cigar related paraphernalia, close to $2000. Gimme that 1/3 of 1%!

Today at the cigar shop it was Calvin and Don with Sean coming in at 4:00. Bill texted me, telling me he got me a present and he wasn’t going to tell me anything about it. He figured I’d probably guess what it was.

The rest of the day at the shop was boring and bland. Not much at all to write about except for once again, one of the neighbors is complaining about the smell of cigar smoke. I can’t say whether or not they actually smell cigars, since I smoke cigars myself.

This time the complaint was from the bank two doors down. The bank the cigar shop does business at. I told Calvin that if they’re going to go after our livelihood, we should take our money out and go to a new bank and deprive them of their livelihood.

Calvin did his usual nervous laughter, like he does after almost everything he says. It goes on even more after he has a few drinks.

And he was nearly busted by a customer who every now & then, leaves a bottle of booze in the store’s pantry. Apparently someone finished off the bottle and most of the signs pointed to Calvin. But he’s the manager of the store so no fingers were pointed, just shoulders being shrugged and murmurs said under non alcoholic breath.

I closed the store with my drawer being over $51.00. I counted a few times but figured I could figure it all out tomorrow. I hustled on down to the bus terminal, where I ran into Hyman Gross. He asked if I had an interview today and I told him it was tomorrow.

He asked where and I told him, and also mentioned that all I really want is a Monday through Friday job. He responded, ‘Why would you want to work there? It’s a job for a high school graduate!’ I told him to knock it off, I didn’t need his undermining and I was looking for a Monday through Friday job.

And I am a high school graduate.

He got the message and said he would say a prayer at 11:00, saying that if this what I wanted, then he wanted it for me. That was nice. Hyman got off at his stop and I got off at mine. I had to walk up to Washington Street to get some coffee since I did not want to be out tomorrow morning.

I came home and there was Bill, opening the door for me. And there was a gift wrapped box from Bill, with my name on it. I unwrapped it to find a new camera. Quite happy and thrilled. Haven’t read the instruction book but already took some pictures of Bill and uploaded them onto my computer.

Back in the Weegee business I suppose.

That's my Boo.



The Dying Starling

I Don’t Want To Know

Well it’s been a day off and it’s been alright. I bought myself a new Timex watch and some new Airwalk sneakers. The last watch lost it’s crown, which is the piece that allows you to adjust the time when you pull it out.

What was left of the crown kept getting snagged on clothes and other things. And the Airwalk sneakers, well after over a year, they’ve been looking ratty. A trip to the mall was in order. The watches were on sale at Kohl’s so I saved about $20.00 on the basic Timex watch.

The co-workers at the cigar shop all have watch fetishes, preferring to spend hundreds of dollars on a watch that does the same thing as my $30.00 Timex. Only it’s not as flashy as a watch that cost several hundred dollars (or more).

On my way home I switched from the old sneakers to the new ones, figuring I was just going to throw them out anyhow. I must have looked a sight sitting on a bench by the Hudson River, in my purple socks, lacing up the new kicks and tossing out the old ones.

I did say good bye to the old sneakers, thanking them for the services they’ve provided. The new pair is basically the same style as the old pair, tan Airwalk kicks. I certainly don’t wear them as much as I used to, mainly on weekends as I truck to and from the bus terminal to the cigar shop.

It was a nice day out too. A little overcast and a little muggy at that. More resumes went out this morning and also communicated with the groups that Don from work had suggested. One of the groups, an LGBT start up had no use for me, but did offer some volunteering work if I’d like.

I thanked them for the volunteering offer, but turned it down. With my schedule I don’t think I would have anytime to do any of that for them. Still no word from the other group Don recommended. And there were other resumes sent out.

Last year the thing from some job listings was a front for continuing education websites like University of Phoenix. You see a job that you feel you are qualified for and send them your resume then you get a response, asking for you to take an IQ test, or a free credit check.

It’s all rather demoralizing and degrading. Demoralizing since you think it’s a good fit and it seems like a scam. Still I continue sending out resumes left and right. No legitimate responses, no words from the cousins.

The mantra is a bit frayed, I’m afraid. If I could have picked up a new mantra with the new watch or sneakers I certainly would have. But no, it wasn’t to be.

Last night or rather this morning I had a very strange dream. I was in an apartment with Brian Eno & David Byrne and a woman. Eno picked up a starter’s pistol and put it to his temple. We told him not to pull the trigger but he did and collapsed.

Blood and water spilled from his head as he lay there. Byrne, the woman and I all tried calling 911 on our cellphones but couldn’t get through. At some point I cradled Eno in my arms and took him outside. When we were out in the daylight, his skin looked like the skin of an avocado, but rather quickly his skin was normal once again and he came to life.

So while it had a happy ending it was disturbing enough that I couldn’t get to sleep again.