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I Hear A Sweet Voice Calling

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Wednesday again, at where else but the cigar shack. It seems my days are numbered. Part of the letter I had written was regards to bank deposits that I usually make, but on 2 days that I did not make the deposits, it was reported that the deposits were off.

And that was part of the letter which I had read and had to sign in front of super assistant manager Calvin. Today I heard from Thomas who had actually made those deposits in my stead, and he said that the deposits were fine, the bank clerk initially miscounted the money.

Still I am the one who was blamed for the shortfall. Another letter goes into my file and I suppose that at a certain point those letters will be used to get rid of me.

Yesterday I got an application for another shop. Sean, former employee hooked me up and on lunch today I filled it out. It might be for less money, but it would not have this aggravation, the shenanigans that ensue and the incredibly retarded management that goes on here in the cigar shack.

I even met with the manager of the new place who asked me a few questions and said he would forward the application to the hiring manager. Nothing else seems to be happening.

I sent my resume into the bibliothèque once again, no word from them. No world from Donald the K either. I can’t sit around and wait and I obviously can’t stay at the cigar shack since I can’t help but feel that they got it in for me.

Gone is the concept of doing the right thing and giving two weeks notice. No, I think if I get another job, I will simply quit. It’s not like the management Wallenda’s of Marcus & Calvin would give me notice anyhow. Especially not after their hijinks.

Tonight I will more than likely be done with my work at 9:10 and I will have to stay here until 9:30. No more bus rides with Hyman and more importantly, no getting home by 10:00. I am just so sick and tired of this place.

And the new guy, the Boy Wonder Thomas left early since he was feeling ill. The Bradley is staying until 8:00 in case it gets busy, and it’s pointless since after 7:00 this cigar shop and the surrounding area is like a cemetery.

He’ll pick up and extra hour of overtime since I am obviously too incompetent to manage the cigar shack on my own. I’d much rather he leave, and right now he’s somewhere in the area, taking a tobacconist test, something they will have me do at some point down the line, and of course it’s something I certainly do not want to do.

Almost at 500 words right now so maybe I should end here and continue at home. I could write about the supposed boycott that is occurring, former regulars are now at the competition, which Marcus claims is not the competition despite the fact that our once loyal customers are going there and not here and writing about it all on Facebook.

525. Now I am home. It’s 10:34. It did not make any difference at all whether or not I left at 9:10. I was done with my work at 9:10 but from the memo yesterday I am scheduled to work until 9:30 so I had to stay until 9:30.

I clocked out on the computer with the slow clock which read 9:29 so I punched in again and waited until it actually read 9:30.

Prior to 9:00 though, one of my favorite customers came in, a nice guy named Jimmy Seltzer. He always comes in later and is so well regarded by most everyone he gets special permission to sit and have a smoke without other people around.

We usually have good chats and tonight I told him about this here blog. He pulled it up on his iPhone and read some of it, and actually enjoyed it, or at least said it was well written.

It was a nice boost or bandage to my shattered ego.

Camera


I Got A Feeling In My Body

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Once again, I am writing this at work. The camera will see me at the computer, but since I am not online per se, it really shouldn’t matter. I could always say I am sharpening my typing skills. So far no typos either which is out of the ordinary.

It’s been an interesting day to say the least. First off it was Calvin free (‘exactly’), but nervous laughter happens to most everyone sometimes and I’ve noticed the Thomas does it too. Bill does it as well but of course with Bill, I find it endearing.

And the day started with waking up to the terrible news of the earthquake off the coast of Japan. 8.9! Crazy. Not so much levity on the Today show, they were somewhat solemn. But the footage was intense. Houses, trucks and cars being swept away by the tsunami, like so many toys strewn across a floor.

Hundreds missing, perhaps swept out to sea. I couldn’t help but think that the time will come soon enough for an earthquake to strike this tri-state area. And of course that was on my mind most of the morning.

Waiting for the bus, keeping an eye on the birds since I heard that they will all take off, animals will start behaving strangely right before an earthquake. I waited for the Hoboken Daily News building to start swaying. And then it was a ride through the Lincoln Tunnel where I was sure it was going to collapse.

Then a walk through the bus terminal, followed by the subway where I was sure I was going to be in the real life version of the movie of the week from the 1970’s, where an earthquake struck Manhattan leaving passengers in the tunnels and for some reason they had to get across the East River, to Brooklyn.

I would be playing the Karen Valentine part, or the troubled boy with a junkie dog. Or more than likely, Karen Valentine playing the junkie dog.

When I got to the building I called Bill as is my wont, and he told me not to kill anyone at the cigar shack. And I hadn’t thought about that as I stood outside the glass towers that house the cigar shack. But it threw me off and I didn’t recognize Bill trying to cheer me up.

I am so not a morning person, but I would probably be more of a better morning person if I had a better job. But here I am stuck in a cigar shack and not liking it. I used to think it would be the best job since I do enjoy cigars, and maybe it is at other cigar shops, just not this one.

I apologized a few times to Bill, for being such a neurotic bitch and he accepted, in fact he knows it comes with the territory. He loves me despite the fact that a lot of the time I do not love myself. Make that most of the time.

And Bill has been good at greeting me at the door when I come home, offering hugs, taking my bag off my shoulder. Tonight when I need it most, for real since I feel like I am thisclose to breaking down, he’s not around. And I suppose that’s alright since with the mood I am in, I wouldn’t want to see me either.

I did run into Hyman Gross on the bus once more. He tried to cheer me up after I stomped my way down the avenue in 16 minutes 30 seconds from the cigar shop to the bus terminal. Listened to the Sex Pistols, from Holidays in the Sun to halfway through God Save the Queen.

By the time I saw Hyman I was still in no mood despite his efforts. On the bus Hyman chatted up a young woman with a pillow that had I Love You embroidered on it. I avoided eye contact with everyone and did not pay attention to their conversation. I was probably the best for all concerned.

I do need a hug, or rather I did need a hug, but the moment has passed and now I am home, alone.