To write again. Oh, I’ve been avoiding it or putting it off all day. Yesterday too. I had a job interview on Wednesday and it was lackluster. I did well but I may have done too well. Too much personality. They were kind enough to let me know within 24 hours that I was not wanted for the position.

My heart wasn’t in it though I answered their questions with something that resembled enthusiasm. And if they offered the job I may have taken it. But they did not and so I will not. I found out before hooking up with Mike so I had that to talk about as we walked through Jersey City.

It is a bit unnerving, me talking all the time and Mike not saying much, just taking it all in. We had a very good time yesterday though with more good times a comin’ round the bend. The episode of Lawn Hors d’oeuvre that I was an extra in was broadcast last night.

Unlike the episode Bill was involved with a few weeks ago where he was on for a few seconds and recognizable by me, I did not make the cut and wound up on the floor of the editing suite. That was always a possibility and I got paid for it nonetheless. It would have been fun if I made it onscreen but such is life.

There might be other opportunities but who knows really? I have been asked for my availability and when I answer yes, that I would be available, they withdraw their interest. Mike told a few people that he knows about this casting thing and they seem to be getting more time on sets for movies and whatnot.

That’s show biz I reckon.

Today I gathered my steps again, same route as most days. I did have a plan to go meet up with Mike in Manhattan but he put that aside since it was cold and windy and we really didn’t have any idea on where to go. Gone are the days when I’d be hanging with Julio with no particular place to go and stumbling into one spot or another which was almost always a comfortable spot.

Bill doesn’t really do that these days. Pedro would on occasion but he had a car. I don’t think the temperature mattered with Julio. If it were cold we would just hustle along faster. But most of those memories are from spring or summer times.

After Mike put the kibosh on the afternoon in Manhattan I talked myself in and out of going to the city for the cigar social. Bill was home and going to bed early so he egged me on going. I was in I was out. Finally put a sweater on, and a coat and grabbed a bottle of water, and headed out.

I bought my ticket and activated it on Washington Street and waited for the approaching 126 bus to the Port Authority. We had our phones out and signaled for the driver to stop. The bus was empty as he rolled on by, seemingly signaling to catch the next bus. The thing is, there was no next bus coming, at least not within eyesight.

I called Bill and told him of the bus fiasco and he told me another bus would be coming which was a known fact but just not a bus that was visible and no buses seemed to be adhering to the schedule.

I walked a bit to the next stop and if I saw a bus coming I would get on it, but nothing was coming down Washington Street. I walked home thinking the Universe was telling me not to go, which I accepted as I climbed the stairs to my flat.