Category Archives: the day after yesterday

I’m Coming Home

Well it was back to work after having off yesterday. And yesterday when it was 100° I was home in my underwear. It’s a nice enough image. Today when it was 100° I was in a suit and tie. That was what the temperature was when I had lunch at 3:30.

That’s the time to have lunch when you’re starting later than usual and also closing the store. It wasn’t so bad to have lunch at a late hour. Once again I sat by the park on a bench, reading the New Yorker from May and enjoying a free cigar.

A $25.00 cigar at that.

It was Marcus for a little while then he was off to get ready for his upcoming nuptials. Calvin and Raymond and eventually Sean came in. Raymond and Sean are both on thin ice, Sean because he was spending too much in the backroom and not working.

He’s a 19 year old father of a three year old and doesn’t care if he gets fired since he can always get a part time job at Hermes and his only expense is school books. No child support from him. He actually asked that if he gets a phone call from someone to say he’s not there.

Yes, he’s avoiding the mother of the baby boy, and not offering any child support.

Raymond offered to stick around while I closed the store, specifically reconciling the register. AT 9:01 he was out the door. So much for sticking around if I had any questions. In any event I was able to close the register and I’ll find out tomorrow whether or not I did it right.

I listened to MGMT after leaving the shop and got from there to the bus terminal in 16.1 minutes. Luckily I caught the bus and got a nice seat just seconds before the bus left the gate.

Last night things were quite heavy here in Hoboken, specifically in the apartment. The whole Bill wearing a guayabera thing blew up and got quite heated. Lot’s of yelling and getting in each others faces.

I yelled that I was willing to cancel the party and Bill said go right ahead. In the middle of this my cousin Joe called. He might be making it to the party on Sunday. I tell you, that if it weren’t for Joe’s call I probably would have canceled the whole shebang.

It was good to hear from Joe. I don’t believe I ever spoke to him on the phone before. He’s older than I am, closer to Frank and Annemarie’s age group than mine. Theresa and myself are the youngest in this group of cousins.

There is a younger cousin, Terrance but I haven’t seen him in 35 years. And that branch of the family tree doesn’t seem to want to have anything to do with the rest of us, possibly from having bad feelings regarding their late father, my uncle which is the point of contact between us and them.

Doesn’t matter to me though. They’re somewhere out on Long Island along with other cousins that are unreachable or otherwise engaged.

I’m just glad the cousins I like are coming. And also glad that you might be coming. You know who you are. And Bill and I are just fine, thank you very much.

Appel Indirect

Getting ready to work the late shift again. Had some interesting dreams last night, specifically a dream where I was in Manhattan, around 57th Street.

I was at a bar which resembled the Carnegie Club, but it was a gay bar and instead of being behind Carnegie Hall it was right next door. I had some books or magazines and needed to get home but something kept me where I was.

I left and walked towards 6th Avenue, and soon I found myself in a taxi driven by a chatty and obliging driver who dropped me off near the bar I mentioned before. I got out of the cab and walked around a bit, when I realized I left the flip flops I was wearing in the cab.

I went to a store across the street from the bar and found some European merchants who sold me a pair for $3.99. Then I headed to the bar but I couldn’t find the entrance since there was a lot of scaffolding erected.

That’s when I woke up to the sound of Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran. Not my favorite song or band, but it certainly got me out of bed. Overcast day. I watched True Blood last night.

So much happening. A very fast hour. Nice butt on Eric. But I’m not an ass man, man. In started to watch Treme afterward when my old friend and former roommate Kevin called.

It was a fun talk almost 90 minutes. A wide range of subjects were touched on, friends, alcoholism, drugs, family, movies, Maxwells, bad choices and of course, art. Kevin is one of the best artists I know and it’s good to see he is still at it out there in Pennsylvania.

I am now friends with him on Facebook (which he recently reluctantly joined) and MySpace. My MySpace page was covered in cobwebs since I hardly ever go there. It was funny to find he’s friends with my sister in law Elaine’s nephew, John.

I made two new play lists for the store, one of Maria Callas with a smattering of Kiri Te Kanawa and another list of Django Reinhardt. Last week when I played the very long play list, when some opera came up Marcus was greatly impressed with it and I tried to find some more.

Unfortunately I had maybe two other songs which went into Malcolm McLaren’s Madam Butterfly. Last week I also raised some eyebrows when The Bird & the Bee’s song, Fucking Boyfriend came up.

You’d think that a room full of men smoking cigars wouldn’t have any problem with Inara George singing, ‘would you be my fucking boyfriend’, but they did. No one complained outright but a few comments were made so in order not to ruffle these sensitive feathers, I deleted it.

That as well as Bodies by the Sex Pistols.

It’s an overcast, muggy day and they’ve been saying that it might rain later on. For once they may be right. I’m wearing a suit that I don’t think I’ve worn in about 6 years. I wonder why that is.

I’m sure I’ll find out. I’ll be working later on and notice a tear or something that will remind me, just why this suit has been hanging in the closet. Better the suit than me I suppose.

Have a good day. I hope to.