Man it’s hummus out. Been hummus all day. Goddamn chick peas. And where’s the pita, huh? I ordered pita! Where it be? It was back to work at the cigar shop. Things moving slowly on the other front. I am resigning myself to the fact that I may be at the cigar shop longer than I had anticipated.
It’s not bad, I still have my mantra, which is “I still have a job’.After 2 days off I find it difficult to get back to work. Was it always this way? Maybe. I don’t remember. I slept a deep sleep last night and there was difficulty in waking up this morning.
No melatonin involved, just no desire to leave a barely air conditioned bedroom. I decided to catch the 10:30 bus instead of the 10:15 bus. No need to hustle, too hummus. Once again my white shirt was translucent by the time I got to the bus stop.
I did finish a cigar that I started last night while I waited for the bus but couldn’t take my usual seat since there was a stay at home dad with his infant sitting there. See? I am considerate.
But the guy is a moron and never pays attention when the bus he needs to take shows up and usually scrambles to get it together and get on the bus with a baby strapped to his chest.
The ride through the tunnel was uneventful as was the subway uptown. I was early enough and it was warm enough outside that I went in earlier than usual and put on my t-shirt and sat in the back room cooling off.
One of the usual customers who everyone seems to think is a drug dealer came in with Spanish food from Washington Heights for everyone. I did not partake since I had my own lunch.
It was Calvin and myself for a few hours since Raymond’s grandmother died last night and they wouldn’t let him leave early, instead allowing him to come in late. Since he’s still on a probation of sorts, they’re not allowing him any time off to go to Florida and grieve with his relatives.
And no breaks either. But there are no breaks for anyone even when working a 10 hour shift. One must sneak away, to get coffee, have a cigarette or get bananas for about 5 minutes.
According to Raymond, that’s how Marcus and Calvin came up through the ranks and so the cycle continues. Treat your employees badly, talk about them behind their backs and then stand back and let the buffalo chips fall where they may.
Calvin did tell me of his passion for writing poetry. Apparently he used to frequent the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe and participate in readings there, as well as having a book of his poetry published under the pen name Dushon, which is his middle name I think.
I have to say I was impressed with that.
Raymond came in, understandably gloomy. Nothing can be done and he wasn’t exactly able to fly down to Florida even if he had the chance. I did get word that Marcus was upset with my interview with a reporter from the Wall Street Journal.
I didn’t want to do it, but Calvin passed on the opportunity. You’d think that since he was the manager he would be the person to speak but instead gave it to the new guy, me. I’m sure Marcus will say something to me when I see him tomorrow.
Other than that, it was a long boring day. I didn’t hustle getting from the shop to the bus terminal while listening to David Bowie, Lodger. Still sweaty, still hummus.
One step forward with regards to Same sex Equality. Thank you Judge Walker.
