So many plates

What is going on, on a Thursday night in Hoboken with a 51° temperature? Not much. The Rastas I used to hang out with back in the day would say I was looking Asian, specifically Chinese, if you get my non-racist racist statement.

I had an interview this morning and I think it went well. The interviewer sat me in their office and instead of reviewing my resume, proceeded to tell me all the tasks I would be doing if I got hired. I was charming of course. And the tasks were nothing I hadn’t done before, and quite well I might add.

The whole thing took a little over 30 minutes, with another 15-minute tour of the area where I would be working. If I got hired. And the phone interview that was going to be rescheduled was rescheduled, and the brush-off from the same company regarding a different position was made official with an email.

I sort of had to force the hand of this phone interviewer reminding them of my reply two days ago that I was still interested in the position that was offered. They sent another invite and I picked 9:00 AM, figuring that I had gotten up at 8:00 AM for today’s in-person interview, then I could get up at 8 AM again for a 9:00 call. Coffee will be ingested as well as a shower if there is time.

So many plates in the air!

It’s been a good day I think. It’s not over yet though. Bill is off to bed soon, then the phone call with Mike. That’s the routine lately. ‘It works nicely and everyone benefits’ he wrote sensing a foreboding that faded quickly as foreboding sometimes does.

The Rastas were right 35 years ago. I do not have to look in the mirror to check, them eyelids be heavy. Julio would have had a laugh at that himself back in the day, while he looked like a resident of Saipan.

The interview was in an area I worked, for the Algerians. After the interview, I strolled the old haunts and found most of them were gone. The store where I hoped to get a cigar was no longer selling cigars.

The super-deli I would get an egg sandwich was now a furniture showroom. The two floors at 360 Park Avenue South were vacant, the Algerians having left a few years ago. Restaurants had changed names and menus.

I didn’t meander too much since it was raining a bit. Took the PATH train back home. The station was shut down for a makeover for almost a month and only had just reopened two days ago. It is brighter and somewhat cleaner.

The new staircases were nice too since the old ones were quite old and probably about 100 years old. One platform was finished and the other was covered in plywood. Maybe they’re both finished and one platform is an art installation. Yeah, that’s more like it.

No Thanks

Been thinking about writing tonight and here I am, doing just that. 48° on the last Wednesday of February 2025. It’s been a rollercoaster couple of days. I have been sending out resumes most days and it has not been easy. I can’t say diminishing returns since there really hasn’t been much to diminish.

There had been 2 interviews, one in person for a major law firm and one over the phone with a man from the rag trade. The law firm interview went well enough but they notified me with a perfunctory ‘no thanks’.

That was November. The phone interview was in January. The rag man was awful at interviews and I’m sure if I kissed his ass things might have happened, but I know me.

The tide turned somewhat, and in the past 48 hours I had a phone interview that didn’t really go anywhere but there is a chance for a restart. Basically, the job they wanted to interview me for was paying less than the other position at the same company that I also applied to.

There is a chance that they would call me back about the first position since I was told, ‘no thanks’ from the people managing that other pricier position, and I was sent an email asking if I was still interested in the original position and I stated that yes, I was.

Tomorrow I have another interview scheduled and though I feel good about it, I don’t know. I had another phone interview this afternoon with a friendly gent named Billy. He asked for my front desk experience, and I responded 30 years which seems to surprise him.

The rule of thumb for resumes is to keep it to one page, which makes the more interesting jobs that I had do not make the cut. I did mention that I worked for recording studios, record labels, and producers, manning the phones. I’d like to think the interviewing Bill was impressed by that but who knows?

Distracted again.

Bill is off to bed, Frasier is on so occasionally I turn my head to see what erudite antic Frasier might get into this time. Had a brief chat with Mike who was also in bed. Not the same bed. Plans are made for the weekend, Mike coming over Friday and we’ll watch season 2 of Ted Lasso and then on Saturday we will watch the third season.

He might also come over on Sunday which is the day that Bill is off to the slopes. That might take some time so Mike might as well spend the week and walk to work. And who knows? Perhaps I’ll be employed.

That would be something.

I am looking to seeing Music for Enophiles in April. I’m already planning with a pencil in my head. It’s on a Wednesday night and I am already thinking in the manner of having a job and going to see the show after work. Am I counting the chickens before they hatch or am I putting all my eggs in one basket? And what with the price of eggs these days…