Enrique Venegas. I had a crush on Enrique. We’d hang out and smoke cigarettes and I’d watch him grab his dick through his pants at his father’s Texaco station. He did not know how he was driving me crazy, and I fantasized about him many a time back in the day.

A memory of Enrique and his girlfriend Lisa, going to a NY Cosmos match the night Donna Summer’s Bad Girls and Hot Stuff were first broadcast on the radio.

Finally one day I offered to give Enrique a blowjob following an elaborate lie but he was horrified and refused and he never spoke to me again. He was part of the graduating class of 1980 that did not continue to college. I’m sure he told a few classmates, or at the very least his girlfriend Lisa.

Enrique and one or two other young men joined the armed forces. I believe Enrique joined the Navy. I realized there was nothing for me, so I did not go to college since I hated my education so much, and the armed forces weren’t going to happen, so I went full-time at the book Warehouse HBJ in Saddle Brook, New Jersey.

Kevin Wagner also worked at the book Warehouse, and though we were friendly in high school, we got along great after high school. Kevin was one of the people who found out I was gay when I was outed in 1982. He was greatly upset that I did not trust him enough to tell him that he had to find out via a third party.

He was hurt and never spoke to me again. He never understood that I valued his friendship to maintain the lie in fear of losing his friendship. It was a lot like Colin and Isaac in that episode of Ted Lasso, but without the happy ending.

I attended the 20th Paramus Catholic High School reunion in the year 2000. I was very gacked out. I had cash and hired a town car to drive me to and from the dining hall on Route 17. I also had enough money to get cocaine, which I did throughout the night. I saw my classmates and regretted seeing them, vowing to never see them again.

The classmates I did want to see did not attend. I later found out that one of them, Jim Carley, had died 3 years before while jogging. The other friend, John Nesselt, was not there and still does not maintain any online presence.

I did see Jimmy Bartoli and Santo Munafo, who I went to grammar school with before high school, and during high school, we did not have anything at all to do with each other. Jimmy seemed happy to see me, and Santo was angry because somebody had put out something that said he was gay.

I might have known the one who did that, never thinking they would see Santo again, but I kept my mouth shut while Santo raged. The thing is, Santo isn’t ga,y just upset that somebody might think that he was, although he was not.

At the reunion, every 20 minutes, I kept running to the men’s room. There’s also the only one tipping at an open bar, knowing that you get better service at an open bar if you tip. I stood there grinding my teeth, smoking a cigar, and drinking Heinekens, running down the clock until it was time to leave. I was so gacked out that food was not an option. This was a few months before I met Bill, so things were spiraling out of control somewhat.

Things certainly got better when Bill entered my life. He’ll get along with his classmates from high school and looks forward to seeing them. I have read about a classmate from grammar School as well as high school who has gone to jail for embezzlement as well as a financial scam on the New York Yankees Walter Hass was his name and he was always a shady type showing me his penis in his swimming pool.

Like I posted yesterday my hesitancy to write anything about the job that I have been enjoying seems to have been jinxed today or at least overnight…just having an awkward day not able to connect reaching out for help sending messages and emails to people that are not responding and these seems to be big names that I am trying to deal with so I don’t know whether or not it’s connecting or not.

So I gather my steps and wander around the area with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Now I sit outside the building smoking a mini cigar and I wonder what fate will be falling when I return to my desk.

Oh, and it’s very hot today in the 80° range.

What a fucking Wednesday. It started off OK, then I got out of bed. I did my routine, shower, and whatnot, then when it was time to get my coffee, the lights were on as if coffee was made, but there was some colored water. Not exactly coffee.

Now I enjoy coffee, but Bill does not. But Bill likes to make my coffee, and he does not like it when I make it myself. Bill sometimes leaves the lid of the Cuisinart up, though this does not prevent the coffeemaker from making coffee, but it is not coffee. The water goes through without touching the coffee grounds in the filter.

It was a major disappointment, and I did not have the time to make the coffee myself. I threw caution to the wind and went into the world without any caffeine in my system. I went to work after helping Mike get to his job via a Lyft. He called me desperate to get to work on time, and I felt obliged to help him out. It wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last, I’m sure. I can do it, and I am happy to help.

I got my coffee from the subjugated women at Dunkin Donuts on 14th Street; they have that deer in the headlights look, which is not a good look to have when dealing with the public before 8:00 AM. And I was early to work once again, in before most everyone. I changed my undershirt since it was quite drenched in sweat and hung it in the back of the closet near my desk.

I am hesitant to post that I like this job, but I really do like this job, and I like my co-workers. Beresford Marcus has turned out to be an engaging young man of 29. And Jimmy Chile is even more fun. A font of wisdom and quite a life story that unravels day by day, and he’s very funny. The 3 of us generally sit near each other and chat throughout the day, usually ending in laughs all around.

In the midst of all that, Mike called with bad news. Since I was involved in this story, I will tell it. Mike quit his job in a fit of pique. He had nothing lined up, but the criticism he was faced with was too much for him to bear, and he walked off his job. It was a foolish thing to do, but here he is, out of work and now needing to get a job pronto.

As bad as his job was, it was bearable with a schedule he was used to. But he was near the bottom of the ladder. No room for advancement and his co-workers looked at him with disdain and treated him like crap. It was his breaking point, and he went right through it.

He called me immediately. I was taken aback but said nothing. I forwarded him some job postings, which caused some consternation. He claimed his email was rejected, but his dyslexia had him mess up his email address, which added to his confusion. It wasn’t until I got home that I was able to let him know what he had done wrong.

He’s going to be here most of the weekend, I reckon, working on his resume and sending out applications online. I got him to work via Lyft only to quit a couple of hours later, without any prospects. What a fucking Wednesday. His birthday approaches, and whatever plans that were made for a celebration of Mike have fallen by the wayside.

This is the first post I have made with typing rather than dictating. It was easier than I remembered…