Chorus Line

What a week this is revealing itself to be. First up was the firing of yours truly. I’d like to know how that ended with Benjamin Taylor and Jean Horonich but that ain’t gonna happen. It will forever be a mystery to me.

Then came the return of L’Orange Merde and the revelation that a good many of my fellow Americans are quite stupid. Their mistake will be revealed soon enough. It could be a reveal of my memory of a restaurant owner for 20 years somewhere, maybe Oregon, who turned out to be undocumented and deported forthwith.

The restaurant owner’s friends and customers were quite upset at this turn of events since L’Orange Merde ordered that deportation as well as others. Who cares that he created jobs and greatly contributed to his community?

These friends and customers were on camera saying that yes they voted for L’Orange Merde and yes they knew of the planned deportations, but this was one of the ‘good ones’, not that they knew of his undocumented status. This could be occurring more and more as the tale of L’Orange Merde unfolds.

Wednesday turned out to be quite a mental day. Mental meaning depression, inertia, and sadness. I couldn’t come up with a more encompassing phrase. I did have an interview today. It was supposed to be an hour but it was twenty minutes. The interviewer was a former NYPD officer, I noticed when I saw his ring.

I think the interview went well. Then again I usually do.

Gone were the days of the 90’s, specifically an interview I had in Hoboken.

It was some business in the basement apartment of a brownstone on Hudson Street. I showed up on time and was directed by the woman who was going to interview me to sit next to her desk as she finished up a phone call to a family member. She was surprised that she had forgotten her father’s birthday.

We did the interview dance and she finished with, ‘So why should I hire you?’. I replied that I was prompt, organized, and lived locally. Plus I would make sure she would never forget her father’s birthday again. It was then that she showed me the door. It’s a favorite story of mine.

I have to admit I enjoyed the location of today’s interview and the view from the 39th floor was spectacular. Plenty of restaurants in the area too. I hadn’t been to this part of town in a long time and preferred it to Tribeca which I may have posted earlier, was getting boring.

I’ve been down this road before though. I remember Bill Carson, former VP at a former investment bank called BIO-IB, advising me not to take the first job I got offered. Of course, I did just that, working for a week at one of those spaces that rent out offices on a floor in a building.

It was dreadful, though I did reconnect with Vin Rock from Naughty by Nature. I worked with him back in those Arista days. I didn’t last long at that gig, leaving on my own volition. I came home from the good feeling of the interview, out and about on the streets of Hoboken.

When I checked my texts I got a message from Susan who told me about a mutual friend, Marge Hildemann Lear, who passed away. I contacted Julio who worked as Marge’s bar back on Thursday nights all those years ago. He was driving his son to soccer practice so he has a life to live.

No time for mourning even with a hands-free phone in his car.

No Guarantees

So I didn’t write last night. I’m sure it’s understandable. What with my work situation on Monday followed by the election loss of Kamala Harris I was not of the right mind to do such a thing. Not sure if I’m fully present today but here I am, giving it a go.

Golden Girls is on TV, an escape from the licking of wounds on MSNBC. I do not need to hear any more news about L’Orange Merde if I don’t have to. In 2016 when L’Orange Merde first defecated on the country I watched a documentary on Andrew Wyeth narrated by Michael Palin. It helped for as long as the documentary played but reality did intrude.

Lately, in the past week, I found myself posting things from 2020 and 2016 on social medias. Nothing had changed with L’Orange Merde, he was still an asshole.

Last night Bill watched the results on his phone and I was playing the sitcom, Ghosts on TV, occasionally dipping my toe in the electoral waters to see what was going on. It was alarming and stomach-churning, two phrases I rarely use.

Bill planned to stay up until 11 PM but decided on 10 instead. I watched Frasier and was distracted by what was going on. I was in bed a bit after 11 since it was all unofficial bad news.

Bill was up before me as usual and when I walked through the door I could tell it was real bad news. I tried to go back to bed after that news and a hug but that was not going to happen. And all the news this morning was the election, L’Orange Merde will be returning to what he called a dump, the White House.

Kamala was and still is intelligent, honest, and strong. Everything L’Orange Merde isn’t. I cannot believe how stupid this country could be. The demographics were offputting though typically me I did not follow the white adult male crowd and voted for Kamala Harris.

I’ve loathed L’Orange Merde since the crept on my cultural radar in the 80’s. I lost a good friend to him as well. Thankfully my immediate family are on the same page as Bill and myself, I know of other families that are somewhat torn asunder.

Now it’s night time. Bill is asleep, I have a job interview tomorrow. Not too hopeful which actually might work to my advantage. It’s at a place where Bill used to work. In the initial application, the question was asked and I said no.

After a video interview which I didn’t think was so hot, I was asked for a second interview, in person. I decided to alert my initial interviewer and let her know about Bill’s history at this gig, understanding that if it was a red flag then I was sorry to have wasted her time. She said it was no problem and asked me to schedule an in-person interview.

So that’s tomorrow. A new stomach-churning adventure. Hopefully, I’ll be up enough to post about it. No guarantees.