I can’t help but wonder if someone toasted me with ‘May you live in interesting times’. For these are interesting times. The nap after breakfast thing that worked so well yesterday did not so shit today. I was so sure that it would.

After breakfast, after the shower, after checking emails I figured I had enough time for a quick nap before getting on with my day, but it turned out that it was impossible, even with the optimum circumstances of it pouring rain outside. So with nothing better to do and more time to kill I surfed the net, took out the trash and recyclables and then got dressed.

A stop at the dry cleaners was afforded by my extra time and after that, en route to the bus stop a all too brief chat with Bill. He was inundated with work much earlier than anticipated. I stood near the bus stop, enjoying a cigar under the canopy of an antique store which is only open three days a week. I guess the shop owner, also owns the building.

Despite my being early I did not count on being stuck in the Lincoln Tunnel in bumper to bumper traffic. It wasn’t so bad, since I was above ground I was able to text Zack to let him know that I would probably be late. No response and of course I had no choice but to continue on my not so merry way to work.

And of course when I got to the platform it was crowded which meant no trains had come through in a while. The a capella guys were there with their stand up bassist doing their usual credible job but really I wasn’t in the mood for them nor did I have any money to toss into the hat. And that is something I don’t do so much anymore, no money for my once fellow buskers.

Work was alright, somewhere to go, something to do, and something to smoke. Just Bradley and Zack and me today and it wasn’t so bad. Bradley’s been really great lately and Zack as I wrote a few weeks ago is expecting a child with his wife. So he’s in a good mood. Nothing hormonal on his end. And now I am in the final hour, dregs of bourgeois society clamber on through the area, dragging their feet and falling off their wet heels.

The Sugarcubes are on, Bjork singing Birthday. It beats the New Orleans holiday dirges that play on endless loop in this shopping area. With each trumpet blare I loathe Wynton Marsalis a little bit more. A little over twenty minutes left in the cigar shack and I am very glad to be off work tomorrow.

It’s been a while since I’d seen Jimmy Seltzer which means he will probably be in tomorrow when I am not. He did have good advice as well, reminding me that I am a good worker. True I don’t like my job but I still come in every day and do a good job, I am a team player, well regarded by the customers mostly. Or at least by Jimmy Seltzer.




08 Hey, Snow White