Well it finally feels like summer I said to myself as I stood outside my office building having a smoke. It really felt like a beautiful summer day, on the cusp between the end of summer and the start of school. A few good looking men walking about, a few pretty women as well as the skinny types with legs as thin as my wrist, walking on too high heels. Half the office was out today, some working from home, others attending classes or waiting for Verizon technicians to show up. I’ve been instructed to keep a close eye on the attendance of some of my co-workers which puts me in an unenviable position of ratting someone out.

Yesterday I got a phone call from someone I didn’t expect to hear from again, yet oddly enough I thought we’d cross paths somewhere in Manhattan one of these days. It was a call from Gerri Delaney whom I worked with from 2001-2002. We worked the front desk together at Staffmark, a staffing agency on east 40th Street, in the same building as Marvel Comics as well as Jerry Seinfeld’s accountant. Gerri and I worked together during 9/11 and though I was let go from the company in July 2002, when the first anniversary came up I gave her a call to see how she was doing. Her reaction over the phone was, ‘why are you calling me?’. It was an odd call and it effectively killed our friendship which was distressing to me.

Bill couldn’t understand the fact that I make friends via work and usually keep them for a while. He doesn’t do that it seems. I explained that if it wasn’t for work I’d never have made such good lasting friends like Harpy and Pedro, as well as Julio, all of which I’ve been friends with for about 20 years.
So it seems Gerri found my number while cleaning out a drawer and just gave a call to see if it was still mine. She still lives with her husband Jimmy and their son Terry in Stuyvesant Town, a few buildings away from where Bill’s parents live. That would be one place I figured I’d cross paths with her, the rest would be somewhere in midtown. Sketchy plans were made for an after work drink, plans that could easily be forgotten or or perhaps even canceled.

I took off from work tomorrow, officially. Even set an out of office message on my emails which I just checked to see if was working properly and it is. Yet another job well done for me! I wandered through Bryant Park on my way home, witnessed the death of hip hop in the form of a white guy in his thirties with his baseball cap on just crookedly enough, baggy workout pants and an over sized hoodie. Got my attention but not my camera. Also saw some skinny thug poseur trying to look intimidating while rapping on the sidewalk. That was fun to watch, though it wasn’t his intention and also not worth taking the camera out of the bag.

Looking forward to not waking up at 6:00AM tomorrow morning. It’s the little things and in this case, the minutes, that count in life sometimes.

Here’s some pics.

7AM

Up the Down Staircase

Lunchtime Lay

“At last! I am TALLER!”

“Reporting for Fuji TV I’m Deborah RubberNeck…”

Cleared for take off

A short man

Sometimes ya just gotta squat

It was a bottle of orange juice and he was happy to see him

I almost wore the samething!

6:20PM

It’s Wednesday. Not many things happening. Woke up, would have rather slept in. That was the first thought in my head as my eyes opened to Gladys Night and the Pips singing about how they’ve got to use their imagination. Not a bad way to wake up but sleeping more would have been that much better. That wasn’t an option, especially since I told them in the office I was taking Friday off. I need a day off. The weekends have been flying by too fast and I need a little time off. I know I know, why should I get a day off. Well because I want it and I deserve it. It’s been busy for me at work the past week and I suppose it’s going to be like that for a while. Not that I mind.

I’ve been doing a lot of errands which I enjoy, just getting out of the office and bopping around midtown. It was a muggy day, and I think I’ve finally figured out how to not walk so fast. It seems I walk at such a pace that when I finally stop, thats when I start to sweat. And wearing a wool suit in muggy weather doesn’t really help. I look good, but oh how that internal combustion engine cools itself off by turning a white dress shirt into something that would look good next to a stripper pole. I’m sure I could make some money if only I’d apply myself.

I’ve noticed that if I go outside before having enough coffee to face the world, my word power is basically reduced to four letter words. Therefore it’s a smart thing to drink ample amounts of coffee before contact with the outside world. Last night I walked to the bus terminal and got on a long line that wasn’t going anywhere. I just couldn’t stay there on line so I left and walked to the Path train. But it wasn’t the long line that got me to leave, it was the woman behind me talking to her girlfriend about having the friend leave the kids with her mother so that the friend could go see ‘the show’. It’s a mess from what the woman behind me said, and that the new song that was added to the show was terrible.

That was enough to get me going. The Path ride was pleasant and no pregnant women hovering nearby. Today while leaving the apartment, there was another woman, walking precariously on heels that were too thin and too high, she had to walk leg in front of leg lest she fall flat on her face. Why do women wear such painful shoes? She was on her cellphone from let’s say the 624 building on my block way past the bus station. It’s good that she could walk and talk at the same time, but what could she possibly be talking about for so long and for so far? Not my business, I had a bus to catch.

And since I was running around doing errands the day flew by relatively fast. I had plans to meet Bill after work, he was working late and he had some money for me and I had some money for him. I walked past the Golden Staffing building only to find Sixth Avenue was closed to all traffic. Apparently a crane hit a building under construction, causing glass to fall injuring people. Who knew such a beautiful bird, a relative of the flamingo, could do some damage?

In case you are scratching your head and have drawn blood, it was a construction crane, not a flying bird crane. I often get the two confused. Anyhow, I walked around the block cutting through a parking garage and I finally met up with Bill who looked a bit weary and justifiably so. We chatted for a few before he ran back to his desk. Hard to believe I hadn’t seen him since Sunday morning.

Been looking at www.newsmeat.com , looking at what celebrities gave to the democratic and republican parties. Prince is a republican? See for yourself.

G’oo G’oo G’Joob