the day after yesterday | johnozed

It’s a Friday from what I gathered. Bill is driving to Atlantic City so that is a sure sign that the weekend is here. It’s been an interesting day overall. I had a dream that my front teeth were knocked out which was distressing enough to wake me up and check to see if my teeth were still in place. They were and it was a relief. I slept later than usual, I kept hitting the snooze button and each time the radio came on, it was the DJ and I did not want to hear her, I’d rather it were music.

I got out of bed, had some coffee after a shower and headed out. I stopped by Mona’s and dropped off Bill’s shirts and then headed to the supermarket. I saw the mighty Isis, it had been a while and the last time I saw her she was in a parade celebrating the Hoboken High School football team winning the state championship. She was good and seemed happy. It was good to see her and I was soon on the way home with assorted foodstuffs. I did get Bill his almonds but I forgot to buy coffee which I will have to get tomorrow. I think I have enough for one more day.

I saw Shlomo, he seemed alright a little more feeble than usual but he seemed to recover from his diabetic incident with nary a scratch. I also headed to the Guitar Bar where Mr. Wonderful Jim Mastro was busy with a guitar sale and students going in and out. Jim gave me part of a package that was sent to Guitar Bar from an Ian Hunter/Mott the Hoople fan that I friended on Facebook, nice food and snacks. I picked up some photos at CVS and ran an errand for Jim, a trip to the post office. It was a decent day out, felt warm at 39 degrees which is an improvement over the past few days.

I headed into the city and did some running around there too. I ran into my friend Jessie who was glad to see me and just Bill by thismuch. He was off to Wally World and I was off to Hoboken, two ships passing in the afternoon. I got in the queue at the bus terminal and when I got to the gate I saw the bus was jam packed and decided to wait for the next bus. NJ Transit seems to have recovered from Hurricane Sandy, at least with the #126 bus to and from Hoboken.

I certainly did not think I would be waiting for 50 minutes though. I was now first in line and had no idea how long the line stretched and I was not about to give up my spot to find out. Everyone on their devices and people were looking at me trying to gauge my reaction to see if a bus was coming. Eventually they gave up. 50 minutes in a dispatcher shows up to tell us the wait would be 90 minutes. That was when I raised my voice.

I told the dispatcher that some of us had been waiting for nearly an hour and now he was telling us it would be another 90 minutes? He didn’t seem to know how long we had been waiting and walked off, coming back a few minutes later and used his position to commandeer another bus to take us to Hoboken.

It was odd, yesterday while at the cigar shop I saw a few 126 buses going by from Manhattan one after another. Today there wasn’t even one. My NJ Transit bad luck still carries forth and I do regret not thanking the dispassionate dispatcher as I got on the bus but I was tired and in no mood and I really had to pee.

and now they’re getting ready for Valentine’s day

Only The Stones Remain

A Thursday, and it’s been a good day. Yesterday after the adventure on Tuesday, I had the usual blues. A good time was had and for me depression sets in. It was nothing crippling, nothing a banana couldn’t change but still it happens. It’s been happening all of my life. I certainly appreciate the good times, the good days spent with Bill and friends and family. It’s just like the next day I feel like Wile E. Coyote treading air as I stepped off the cliff chasing the Roadrunner. There’s no descent, just a simple about face and all is well.

Last night was cool and mellow, just me and Bill hanging out watching the television. After the Ed Show we watched Modern Family just so we could have something to laugh about and then we watched Suburgatory which was alright, a Thanksgiving episode. And Thanksgiving is a mere week away.

Bill was up and out before the sun rise this morning, leaving a farewell kiss to me. I stayed in bed waiting for the sun to rise but fell asleep once again, only waking until after the fact. No one seemed to mind, let alone me.

I went out and about once again. More debris has been crated off only to be replaced by more debris. The bibliothèque has reopened and the staff was there, grumbling since the person in charge had left already. They’re all full timers so they got paid even though they couldn’t make it in. They all seemed to have been safe while the waters rose and receded. And there was quite a back log of books and other items to be returned and audited before going back on the shelves. I returned Naked Lunch, a movie I had seen with William Charas at the Galaxy Theater 20 years ago.

A movie I only needed to see once. It’s good and I remembered that it got my creative juices flowing back then, nowadays I just saw it as a valiant attempt to film the unfilmable. Peter Weller did do a great job of channeling el hombre invisible, William S. Burroughs. Adaptation is another movie like that. Of course both movies are related to the writing process, as is the Shining when you get down to it. I prefer not to think of myself as a dull, dull boy but ultimately that would be up to you to decide.

On my excursion I swung by the Guitar Bar, and there was Jim Mastro moving amplifiers around and not letting me help him. I did pester him enough that I might be able to help him out on Sunday, that is if his lovely wife Meghan is unable to help. I’m not looking to get paid, I just want to help him out since he helped me and so many others out a couple of weeks ago. After that I walked to the new cigar store and chatted with those guys. Got a freebie which was nice.

I was looking over something I wrote last month regarding Zack and his lack of response to my email. Still no response at this date which I suppose I should have expected. That ‘Caesar’ should be fine with a ‘Brutus’ at his side. No one will tell him the marsupial keeps his shiv in his pouch. Of course those that don’t know history are doomed to repeat it, and I am sure I will hear about whatever happens somehow.

Customers are chatty and my lines of communication with them are still open. Still no new point of sale system from what they tell me, the music sucks there without me and I am sure the employees still aren’t a part of the TransitChek system despite overtures and promises from the inhuman resources director. Don’t worry, Zack is not one to make waves.

It’s a good thing they don’t know about the Bizarro cigar shack blog that was created shortly after my departure. Names, faces and the kitchen sink I tell ya!