What is going on? What am I doing? It’s the last Monday in April, this 2026. I am back at my desk, four days this week, Wednesday at the big fruit stand. It’s making me nervous as it always does. When I am there I am fine, it’s getting there that is the problem. Stage fright. For me, it’s about getting to the stage, once I am on the stage, I am fine. It’s the roadblocks and obstacles that mess me up.

It was a very good weekend. Mike was there for his second weekend. It went so well, it felt like it was more than 2 days. At least, that is how I feel on today, Monday. Very comfortable, cuddly. No longer stressed by his phone addiction, especially when he pointed out my own computer addiction. I keep my mouth shut and so does he.

He is a character though. 11.6 thousand followers on Twitter X. Who knows how many lovers he has? He has his beloved who is scheduled for a weekend visit. This might be the weekend that I actually meet this bloke. Since Mike calls me ‘Dad’ and he also calls Bill ‘Dad’, his beloved calls me Dad and I, in turn, call him ‘son-in-law’.

I know Mike has a few side pieces, and he should, I guess. He’s handsome with a truckload of ‘admirers’. That is what he likes to call his followers. They’re not fans but admirers.

I find it hard to believe that 20 years ago I fell into the glue trap that was known as Wolff Olins. It might still be known as Wolff Olins, though I called it McMann and Tate, an homage to Darren Stephens company in Bewitched.

My time at Putnam Lovell NBF aka Wanker Banker was fast coming to a halt. In 2004 was flying high, in 2005 I was crashing and burning. They wanted me out, so much so they gave Christina Miro, my assistant a larger holiday bonus than I received. I bellyached, and some coworkers felt awful about it and took up a collection that I did not refuse.

Then John Griff, a not so éminence grise made sure no one discussed their bonuses after the fact. A little too late for that. I saw the writing on the wall and took a job in Soho above the SOB’s nightclub. I interviewed with an Airy Ann Sabotuna and she soon revealed herself to be a nightmare. I lasted until the end of the year before jumping ship to Legend Staffing which turned out to be a lackluster move at best.

Then the late Bill Carson found me and hired me to be the office manager for BIO-IB, which was soon to crash and burn due to Ashisht Singhrjaka’s decisions and making enemies and attracting lawsuits. The market crash in 2008 put an end to all that, and I was back on the street in 2009 winding up at the cigar shack, Davidoff in the Time Warner Mall at Columbus Circle.

And that too ended badly since Mickey Herkloz told Kelvin Thweat about the tales I had been telling out of the store. Changing names didn’t help matters since anyone who had a clue could easily decipher my not so obtuse renderings.

Credit to Herkz for figuring it out and honorable mention to Kevin Thweat, who emailed the missing Temple Brandin Graham about this here blog, only Kevin emailed me and not Temple Brandin Graham. Drunken emails are hardly ever a good idea, especially if you’re trying to give a heads up about someone about to lose their job and email the same person who’s about to lose their job.