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I Want to Stand Forever

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Life above the trees. On the fifth floor where Bill and I live, we are above the tree line on our block. No worries about branches coming through. It’s quite windy out so there’s always the threat of dead or weakened branches falling down and clobbering someone.

I had lunch today outdoors at my usual spot on Central Park West, eying the trees above me. It wasn’t raining and it wasn’t too windy but still a few people have been killed in the park by falling branches.

It was a weird day. Didn’t start out that way of course. I was anxious. Calvin was out yesterday and it wasn’t so bad. Today he would be back. I made it to work on time, determined to be ‘cheerful’. I walked into the store, surprised to hear Roots Reggae being played.

I walked by Calvin and said ‘good morning’, walked by Marcus and said ‘hello’. I asked about the music and apparently Martino Basher is a reggae fan and used some of his dough and recorded a reggae CD. It was horribly produced. I would have rated it a ‘D’.

The day was weird in the sense that the other day I was accused of being too silent while working, today it was Calvin playing the role of the mute guy. He wasn’t talking to me. That was fine.

Marcus asked me to fill an order that came in. I filled out the order, the total coming to over $1000.00. As I completed the order I asked Marcus if I should put his name on the sale. He said no. I did the work, I should get the commission. Plus being the general manager, Marcus doesn’t get a commission.

I did my best today, not caring about the commission and wound up selling over $5000.00 worth of goods. Left Calvin in the dust, though it wasn’t my intention and I didn’t care. A couple of rich, drunken Russians came in and dropped a bundle, as did a snooty couple from Barcelona.

Calvin sulked. Sean eventually came in, bringing the energy that a 20 year old young man has. I’m enjoying our relationship since we’ve agreed upon our common enemy. Calvin spent some time later in the afternoon rearranging the schedule since now there is a replacement for Raymond.

Some bloke named Bradley. When Calvin came back out he was quite chatty. Sean hipped me to the fact that Calvin likes to drink and after a few under his belt his whole mood changed and asked me what I thought about Marton Basher’s reggae debacle.

I explained that it was so badly produced and played him If DJ Was Your Trade, a Blood and Fire Records compilation. Deep, heavy dub from the 1970’s. Calvin said he loved it and was really getting into it. I also mentioned that Mick Hucknall from Simply Red loved Dub so much that he co-created a label to release these platters again.

And soon after that Calvin went home, leaving Sean & I to mind the store. It was a fast 2.5 hours. And a walk from the cigar shop to the bus terminal, from Sunshine Superman to Cherchez La Femme to I Feel Love, taking me 18 minutes, 32 seconds.

Not my best time, but somewhat leisurely, if 2 minutes can be counted as leisure.

I also stopped by and saw Julio & Stine. Stine made some meat sauce and had extra. She feels I am getting too thin and Julio commented that my suit looked big on me. I am happy and will reheat the meat sauce tomorrow since now it’s too late.

I Threw It All Away

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Handwritten in the afternoon.
Well it’s a stressful day and not necessarily because of 9/11. Raymond, a co-worker was fired yesterday and several times today I had to explain ‘What happened to Raymond?’ I am sitting in what is not exactly my comfort zone on a bench by the park, a block or so above where I usually sit.

But it’s my lunch hour and I am glad to be out of the store, if only for 60 minutes. Having a Knucklehead Millennium Toro, a top shelf cigar, almost $30.00 but not really enjoying it much. Tourists walk by talking on their cellphones in different languages. From what I gather, I think I heard French, Hindi and German.

I could use a laugh but none seem forthcoming. Half a Xanax seems to be working it’s way into my bloodstream, so I guess it’s doing it’s job. Having to stay late at the cigar shop last night didn’t or doesn’t help my mood today.

Right now I am across the street from the Society for Ethical Culture, where this seed for this blog was planted 5 years ago next month. Writing seems to have helped my mood but it could actually be the Xanax.

Back to the Cigar Shop in 15 minutes. What else can I say? Not much. Perhaps there will be a response to my semi-desperate request on Facebook, ‘Tell me something good. Really. Please.’ awaiting me.

Better Things by the Kinks plays in my head. I love the song but sometimes it bums me out.

I’m sure the writing is helping my mood. I’ll credit half to Xanax and half to actually writing. I have to pee so I had better get back to the cigar shop.

Now written at home. I peed at the store. I thought I had written more word that what is actually there, but happy my handwriting is still somewhat legible.

The rest of the day went by at an easy pace. The only response to my asking to hear something good came from Andrea, a friend in Asbury Park who quoted Rufus and Chaka Khan, which is what I hoped no one would respond with.

Texted Raymond who said that he started out the day upset but things had gotten better. He also thinks his being fired was a big mistake, but he’s not going to sweat it. I texted back, that the only direction he has to go is up from where he is now. Didn’t say it was going to be easy.

The majority of the customers I had this afternoon were nice enough, just one or two assholes total. If those assholes decided to write an email to Geneva, so be it. I don’t really care.

A quick jaunt down the avenue after work, listening to a playlist I made of favorite David Bowie songs, from Heroes through Queen Bitch, Without You, and Always Crashing in the Same Car, a total of 16 minutes, 10 seconds. Hallo Spaceboy came on when I was strolling through the bus terminal, so I don’t count it.

Came home, bills in the mailbox. No big deal. Now I’m happily distracted by Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers.

Also happy to not being out drinking. Took me a while to recover from last weekend’s drinking at Maxwells. Had a good time but bouncing back was not easy.

I’m very happy to have the next two days off as I requested. I doubt if I’ll be writing tomorrow, but who knows. A day off from the cigar shop and perhaps writing. Makes for a good 48th birthday.

Smell ya later.