Monthly Archives: February 2012

I Hate Myself And Want To Die

It’s been a day off and I am pretty much tired. A haircut in the morning and a visit to the dentist in the evening. I didn’t want to ‘do’ the dentist in the morning, and called up yesterday to try to move the appointment to later in the day. I really crave my sleep you see. But it was a Sunday when I called and the office was closed so I didn’t really know whether or not my appointment was changeable.

In hindsight I should have kept the original appointment since I was up waiting to hear whether or not the appointment could be moved. Instead I had an afternoon filled with the usual anxiety regarding going to the dentist.

I was able to get a haircut though. My barber Tony was available when I walked by with bags full of shirt hangers. When we have a lot of hangers in the apartment I usually get them together and drop them off at the dry cleaners.

So there was Tony, his left arm in an elbow brace. He’s not going to have the surgery done since it wasn’t guaranteed to make him move his arm any better since falling from the ladder a while back. Tony of course did his good job of making me look good, nice trim on my head of hair as well as my goatee, and ear hair, eye brows and nose hair.

Then it was a walk to the dry cleaners with the hangers, then to the supermarket. My favorite cashier Isis was at her register but there was a customer laden with many items and I just wanted to go home so I went to the other cashier who I thought at first was slow, but she’s more than likely simply dotty.

I came home and had a decent breakfast and then nothing. I should have kept the dentist appointment the way it was, and perhaps get the haircut later in the day. But no, that’s not how it works out. I cleaned the apartment a little bit, took a nap and checked emails for a few hours before heading into Manhattan at the beginning of rush hour.

The bus was not crowded at all and midway through the ride, I got a phone call from Bill. It was official, Bill has diabetes. Not the end of the world, it’s manageable and Bill has already taken steps in the right direction. Instead of going to the gym in the morning and binging when he got home at night, he’s going to the gym in the morning and that’s it. No carbs, no sugars and he is learning how to drink water. He never had a problem drinking water, he just didn’t like it.

Of course the bus I was on had a novice bus driver who got in the wrong lane in the tunnel and instead of making a left and going 100 feet once we were on the New York side of the tunnel, he was forced to make a right and going several blocks away from the bus terminal. Other buses in the same situation were letting their passengers get off their buses, but not mine.

It was me and an elderly lady who wanted off and the driver threatened to make me stay on the bus since I was ‘talking slick’. The elderly lady wasn’t having it and promptly chewed the driver out causing him to open the door so we could depart. Then a walk from 35th street to 57th street which was faster than waiting in traffic for the bus driver to make up his mind.

My broken tooth was removed and I have another appointment in 3 weeks for a follow up. I am pretty much beat. I should sleep well tomorrow. The Oscars were ‘meh’.

And just a reminder, the title of tonight’s entry is merely a song title from a list that I use. Sometimes it is in sync with what I write about, sometimes I bend the rules but tonight it has nothing to do with anything besides being a song by Kurt Cobain.

In the tunnel

going AWAY from the bus terminal

What is and What Should Never Be

I Hate Men

Another day at the cigar shack. The three days on, three days off shift continues. Tomorrow is Sunday then I am off on Monday. Zack returns from wherever he has been tomorrow. It should be alright, the numbers have been very good, the cigar shack is clean, the humidor has been worked on.

It has been a very windy day outside, so much so that I found myself being pushed along by strong winds and I weigh close to 200 pounds. Well maybe a hair under 200.

Last night I apparently talked Bill in off the ledge. He was understandably stressed with the borderline diabetes diagnosis. All I did was reason with him and let him know that he was getting stressed about things that he didn’t know about and had no control over. The doctor will talk to him on Monday and that’s when we now.

He was worried about his cousin’s sons, a 14 year old and an 11 year old. I told him that more than likely if he was in the room they would be concerned about him, but being a pre-teen and a teenager it’s out of sight, out of mind. Anyway, Bill thanked me for talking him in off the ledge. I didn’t know that was what I was doing, I was just talking to him the way Julio used to talk to me.

Also telling him to get out of his work clothes might have helped. When I get home the first thing I do is get out of the clothes I’ve been wearing all day. Helps to create a distance between my life and my work. Bill usually just wears the same thing he’s been wearing all day until he’s ready for bed. That would not work for me, unless I had no choice.

Saturday night and the area around the cigar shack is quiet and dwindling. Tomorrow night is the Oscars so that should be exciting. I am glad Eddie Murphy is not hosting it. I suppose Billy Crystal will do his shtick and it should work. I just want to get home, get out of these clothes and have a nice cigar and watch some Saturday Night Live.

Other than that it’s been an alright day. It started out to be annoying but as the day got better so did most everything. Lot’s of gay couples walking around. That’s nice to see.

Now I am back home. Bill is in the city. It has gotten colder out and the wind cuts like a cliche. I have walked through the door and changed my clothes, now I sit in tracky bottoms and a denim shirt. The last 15 minutes of The Grapes of Wrath is on TCM. Never saw the whole thing but once again I caught Tom Joad’s speech.

I wonder if Jane Fonda ever said those words to Henry Fonda. We do know that peter Fonda has gone off the deep end, training his grand kids to be armed militia men to fight the traitor, President Obama. More acid, Peter? Do you really know what it’s like to be dead? We know your career knows. Someday you’ll find out.

My Boo

09 53 Miles West Of Venus
One more day of work tomorrow, not posting. Be nice to each other.