Work was. Bit harried in the last quarter of the day yesterday. Jimmy Chile stepped up with some information that should have been commonly known but wasn’t. I had a meeting online with my employment counselor where she once again admonished me for posting ‘darned if I do, darned if I don’t’ in an online forum. I mentioned to the counselor that I spent time going back and forth as to actually posting ‘damned if I do, damned if I don’t’.

Neither was satisfactory and feathers were ruffled nonetheless.

After Jimmy Chile helped me out, there was not much else to do. I stayed a few minutes later than usual. I was meeting Bill on 59th Street at 6:00 pm and wouldn’t want to be too early. d been a couple of years since I had been to this area, the last time was with Bill once again to see a friend of his in a play, where there was more drama backstage than there was on stage.

The NYC subway has a new method to get through the turnstiles, involving smartphones. You have to tap your smartphone to the turnstile and before leaving the office I set up my smartphone wallet, or so I thought. I proceeded as I should and was stopped. My secret. Code was requir3d and being me, I was not 100% sure and I knew that one only has a small window of opportunity to enter the correct number.

Being underground I was blocked from getting the correct information. Eventually I got the right number and tapped the phone but it came up red. Green is for go and red means stop. I wound up being charged twice but was glad to be able to get uptown. I also remembered why I am not too fond of riding the subway, at least by myself, with Bill I just have to follow hi s lead.

And there was Bill outside the building and we had about a half hour before we were going in, so we sat across the street and talked. It was a nice evening for it. We made it into the screening room and sat in the last row. I saw Issac Ferry and waved hello.

Bill did not know anything about the subject of the documentary, Ron Delsener but enjoyed it very much. At the end, it turned out that Ron Delsener was five seats away from us, and we made it a point to shake his hand and thank him for promoting so many great shows and various venues.

There was a plan to walk down to the bus terminal after the screening but I was tired and just wanted to get home so we took a train to Herald Square and caught the Path train.

Bill went to the supermarket and I went home. He was soon in bed and I was to follow shortly thereafter.

Now it is a gray day in Manhattan and I would rather be in bed. Having slept well last night, of course I would rather be there. But here it is hours later and I’m looking back at 12 hours ago. Doesn’t do me or anyone else any good.

My heart beats for the one I love. That is how the song goes. It’s from the 1980s, which doesn’t seem so long ago but it actually is. Ran out 40 years. Crazy, I know. Bill came home last night after being away for something like 9 days. And he didn’t drive me crazy like he often does . He was subdued as was I.

At the fruit stand once again. I will be here all week and next week at the belly from Monday through Thursday. Last time it was not so bad and I don’t see why next week would be any different. it’s quiet today and it was yesterday. There was an interesting thing that happened though.

As I sat at my desk the elevator opened up and a young man got out. He promptly walked over to the lobby window as he talked on the phone. I certainly paid attention to what he was doing and no alarms were raised. He soon ended his phone call and tried to get in which of course was up to me.

I opened the door and said “good afternoon “ and asked if I could help him. He mentioned that he had a meeting with a DJ I let him in. I asked if he had any codes that were sent to expedite his entry but nothing had been sent. I went about entering him in the system and asked the usual questions.

His name was Issac and he made sure that I spelled it right, I asked for his last name and he spelled that out, Ferry. I asked, “like Bryan? Any relation?” And Issac said that Bryan Ferry was his dad.That led to some interesting chats about Roxy Music. I can’t say that I was much of a fan but a few friends were and reading the UK magazines I knew enough to fake it.

Issac was pleasant enough and soon the DJ came out to collect him. I busied myself as usual, staring down the clock. Issac came out after meeting with the DJ and made it a point to shake my hand and invite me to a screen of a documentary on Ron Delsener.

I knew who Ron Delsener is, having gone to a few concerts and shows at some of his venues. I gave Issac my info and he put me down with a plus one. He might’ve said two but I am going with one. My paranoia and doubt have a say in the matter and nag me asking if I was sure there is a plus one.

I am taking Bill and hope that there is a plus one, paranoia be damned. And if there is no plus one, we will have a pleasant time just strolling around midtown Manhattan on an autumn evening and that would be fine with me.

For the past few days I have been using a tablet to write. It seems to be agreeable and a lot easier to use than the nightmare of dictation.

For the past hour or two I have been going crazy trying to move this post for editing later on. I was not getting anywhere. I saw my Wi-Fi connection was gone and spent too much time trying to get it back to no avail.

I figured I would have to bring the iPad home and have Bill do his Mac magic. Then Jimmy Chile arrived and as I sputtered my dilemma, Jimmy Chile let me know the Wi-Fi password was changed, unbeknownst to me.

Well done denizens of the belly.