Category Archives: Iron my Shirt

I Can’t Wait #3

And it’s back to work for me today after 2 magically nice days off. With the play, ‘Destinations’ at Le Poisson Rouge on Sunday, seeing Bill and a very good cast onstage and the trip to Sandy Hook with Bill and Corinne, it was certainly bound to be a disappointment to have to go back to work today.

I tell you a Xanax certainly helped. No despair though it was there when I was putting my eyeglasses on this morning. No, a wait at the bus stop was quite pleasant as I sat there finishing up a cigar. The bus ride was OK enough, a nice chat with Deborah my neighbor about nothing in particular.

The subway was the same as it ever was. People asleep, junkies on the nod and me staring into space. A walk around the block while talking to Bill on the phone was in order since I was quite early, too early to actually head into the cigar shack. And the cigar shack was alright, though that might be the Xanax writing.

It was Thomas and Calvin and that made it alright. Calvin seems to be stressing out from becoming the head cheese in the cigar shack. A friend suggested I help him out with the scheduling which would free him up to concentrate on the additional tasks he’s taken on. I mentioned it to him and he seemed to think it was a good idea and then he went and did the new employee schedule.

I was talking to Thomas and we both agreed that Bradley wants to be the assistant manager under Calvin. That’s fine by me, I just wanted to lighten Calvin’s load, but of course there could be a problem if Bradley tries to tell me what to do.

It circles back to a conversation I had with Jerry Vale the other night. Jerry Vale is a part timer and Calvin’s been talking to him about being full time. But the store can’t carry 4 full timers so someone would have to go and I reckon that someone would be me.

Especially if Bradley is chomping at the bit for an assistant manager position and with my lack of ambition and relying on merely wanting to help out there’s no other way I can see it. Thomas is an ace at sales, Jerry Vale is learning the ropes and can be molded into something that I’m not and Bradley when not punching walls, shows phenomenal skills when he deals with inanimate projects.

I could be wrong, I could be right, I could be prepared for whatever happens. I’m not bitter, but that could be the Xanax again. The friend who suggested I help out the scheduling for Calvin is a sometimes regular customer from the Bay Area. He thinks I should move to the Bay Area.

He’s a talented entrepreneur trying to sell a lesson guide for children to learn about money management. Something I could have definitely have learned when I was growing up instead of being taught that money was a mystery and a magical thing that would be exploited once I got my grubby hands on it.


Leggy

I Can’t Outrun You

Less than an hour to go here at the cigar shack. Been a good day, mainly it was me and Calvin and we get along just fine. No need to worry for the future of the cigar shack, things are going just nicely. Of course having written that, this atheist who is superstitious feels that he jinxed himself.

I am working with Thomas and Bradley tomorrow so who knows how that will go. It was a good day sales wise at the cigar shack. Not too busy and despite that we’ve done OK. Of course I would rather be down the shore, but since it’s raining I might as well be here. The food guy from a local news station came in, so North Jersey, a dese, dem dose kind of guy, Mister Slick. Marcus loved hanging out with this guy but then again Marcus was always a bit of a star fucker or so I’ve been told.

There are not enough people wearing Hollister gear these days. And not nearly enough people getting tattoos. I am of the age when if you got a tattoo that meant you’re a tough guy. These days, just about anyone and their Aunt Tilly get tattoos. No rebellion required, conformity will do just fine thank you.

Now at the cigar shack it’s me and Jerry Vale who is somewhat more sociable than he’s been for the past couple of weeks. This past Sunday while at the rifle range I handed out enough of my business cards, trying to build a client base as well as drumming up business for the cigar shack.

To my dismay no one has requested anything. I am sure there is still time, after all I did tell the card recipients that I would be back on Wednesday.

Still there is money to be counted so I guess I will finish this at home where it belongs to be finished. Still the desire to write at least seventy five more words is strong. Can I hold off? Can I hold out? What exactly is it that I am doing now? Who am fooling? Could it be the one who reads this blog everyday? Is it possible to fool someone so omnipotent? I don’t know, I guess I will find out.

Nineteen more words could be the deciding factor. Then again it could always spill over into something else, something bigger than you or me, but mainly bigger than you.

And now I am home. It’s a drizzly night, but not a steady drizzle, one of those rains that falls lightly sideways. Michael Eric Dyson is on the Ed Show, a welcome relief from Al Sharpton who stumbles over lines on the teleprompter. The fact that Michael Eric Dyson is not Al Sharpton is a plus in my book.

Bill is off rehearsing for ‘Destinations’ which opens on August 14. I will be there. It’s an early show, 12:30PM, and it’s part of the Fringe Festival. Got to represent!