It’s Friday. A freaky Friday at that. No not like Barbara Harris & Jodie Foster or Jamie Lee Curtis & Lindsey Lohan. Last night, another quiet night. Uninspired viewing of O & RM, Daily Show and Colbert Report.

I’m sure they were worthwhile to someone but just not me. I did go to bed at a decent hour and woke up at 6:00, up and moving and out of the apartment at 7:00.

No chance to hear Matt Lauer being an idiot, though I did see he was off today and replaced by Karl Rove’s dancing partner David Gregory, saying he was basking in the glow of the Rockefeller Christmas tree.

That was all I needed to hear as I was out the door and headed to the bus stop, this time with wallet in pocket. No Casey Chasm this morning. I suppose seeing him yesterday afternoon on the ride back to Hoboken fulfilled all December obligations.

Finished last weeks New Yorker, started this weeks issue. Didn’t get too far into it, since it was the march across town to the office. No one in when I came in, which was ok by me.

Set things up, machines humming, and coffee brewing. I should have taken the day off, but I am taking this Wednesday off, December 10 as part of A Day Without Gay, to show how many gay people are in society and how things would be if we weren’t around.

We’re not supposed to spend any money either so if I need food it would be best to get it on Tuesday. I hung up some New York City proclamations for some of our sub-sub tenants, ably hammering a nail in a wall and hanging three frames up.

I suppose life with B in Weehawken for 11 years gave me some insight on how to do such things, though hammering a nail doesn’t require anything more than aim, not much skill needed.

I was planning on leaving early since I was the only one from my company in, most of my work was done and it was a Friday.

This is when it got freaky.

I wrote previously about the crazy Asian woman who was stalking me via the phone. Well today she showed up at my building, demanding to see Mr. Choi, the president of my company who had just changed his name to Choi.

The president of my company is Greg Stevens, an ultra Wasp. Couldn’t pass for Mr. Choi if his life depended on it, or if my life depended on it.

Luckily for me, the building security know me and like me and around 1:00 I got a phone call from Rocco, the head of security, telling me that Min Young Ahn is in the lobby and requesting admission.

I told him not to let her in. She was escorted out, screaming and ranting. I was surprised and grateful that the building security heeded my email stating that if a crazy Asian woman shows up mentioning my name, do not let her in under any circumstances.

It was nerve wracking and about a half hour later I went out for a smoke, after calling Rocco and asking him to check to see if the coast were clear.

He said it was after going out and checking, but I wasn’t taking any chances and wrapped my face in a scarf and with the flat cap down over my eyebrows I looked like some Irish mujhadeen.

My back against the wall, most everyone was a potential threat. I was quite jumpy and paranoid and when I went back to my desk I decided that it would be a good idea to file a police report.

I sat in the 17th Precinct two blocks away for about twenty minutes before a civilian volunteer took my report. A police officer came and talked to me, not really listening to anything that I had to say, but I listened to what he had to say which was basically unless this woman threatened my life, there was nothing they could do.

I answered no she isn’t a former girlfriend, just a case of mistaken identity. He told me that if she showed up at my building again I should instruct security to stall her, and when they contact me, I should dial 911 and they would come and have her arrested and taken away for evaluation.

This crazy woman did call me earlier in the week, one time telling me I should marry her and the other time saying that I can’t pass her off to my friends.

Believe me, I’ve done nothing to encourage her, in fact I’ve done everything to discourage her, telling her that I am GAY GAY GAY and I don’t like girls. I also told her to ‘stop calling me you fucking idiot bitch’. Still she calls.

I called up Pedro who said the expected insane and callous things, but with me knowing that he would have my back in a fucking minute since I am his ‘nigga’. His words, not mine.

I packed up for the day, various other occupants in my office concerned since this was no longer a laughing matter. I put my things in my trusty Eagle Creek bag and on top of all my things, I put the hammer I used to hang the frames earlier in the day.

I enjoyed a La Flor Dominicana Double Ligero 700 for my walk across town, listening to Led Zeppelin, for some macho posturing to enable my ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe.

I must have looked quite a sight. 6’2” me with a big cigar in my jaw and stomping around in construction boots, black jeans and black leather coat under a black flat cap pulled down low.

I stopped by Bill’s office and he was supportive, telling me all the things he was supposed to say. I could see his worry for me. I showed him the hammer as he suggested that I should write about it. Whatever gave him that idea?

We parted ways with Bill promising to talk to his friend Tom who is a former Marine and works security in Bills office building. These building security people are the front line of safety for the inhabitants and I’ve been lucky with most of the buildings I’ve worked in.

They like me, I like them and give them bottles of water or soda on the sly throughout the year. But I think they would like me regardless. I would hope so. It’s totally crazy and it’s certainly good to be home again.

It would be nicer if Bill were here, but he isn’t. Nor is Juan stopping by since he’s employed once again. It’s fine though.

Sometimes my life is just too interesting.