I Don’t Want To Talk About It

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“Excuse me, I have a question. What is that bullet shaped gadget?” The bullet shaped gadget is a cigar punch. “Oh that is excellent” It’s been a big nothing kind of day. Not much interesting, not much going on, not much of anything.

I slept incredibly well, and I think Bill did too even though I had to tell him as he slept that he was snoring. Through the sleep apnea mask again. He is now officially scheduled to spend the night at a sleep clinic in a week or two.

I feel bad for him since it is a problem and the mask does not seem to be doing it’s job, but then again some weight loss might help. I don’t have the healthiest diet and I feel a bit hypocritical telling him that he should eat better, but I also do not want to come across as a nag.

Bill woke up later than he had hoped and kissed me goodbye as I lay there sleeping the sleep of what felt like someone who just smoked a tremendous joint. Not a bad way to start the day despite feeling sluggish. I shuffled about the apartment, turning things on, turning things off.

Coffee and cereal were my morning companions as I heard all about Occupy Wall Street and their plans to take over the world. Last night on the TV Bill and I watched some cointelpro yelling about how he was going to toss a Molotov cocktail into Macy’s.

Today was spent working with Frank Burns and he was in his element. Complaining of his bad back and how he was going to have to go to a cigar lounge somewhere and hang out since his boy toy is hosting it. No sign of Zack lately.

In the land of the cigar shack, no information on what is going on downtown. Just the usual customers sitting around talking shit which they do so well. And it’s definitely the luck of the draw today, Jerry Vale is kicking ass leaving Frank Burns and myself in the ashtray.

It’s pretty funny, I have some guy dripping in gold, nice suit and shoes and he buys the least expensive. Neck bone walks in looking like crap and proceeds to drop hundreds of dollars. I mean there is really nothing I can do about it, but I have never in all my life decided to kill some time browsing in a cigar shack and not buy anything like the fucktard that just came in while Jerry Vale sells ice cubes to Eskimos.

Less than an hour to go and it certainly cannot end fast enough for me. Just a dreadful day, cold and rainy and just dismal overall. Still both Jerry Vale and I are glad that Frank Burns is not here. He could be anywhere but we know he is at a cigar lounge with his boy toy.

So it’s win win for all concerned. Some Eire fan just came in and bought 2 cigars and paid in Sacajewea dollars which will be fun to count tonight and even more fun to deliver to the bank tomorrow for a deposit.






I Don’t Want To Spoil The Party

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A dismal and wet Wednesday. The day started out with Bill leaving a few hours later than usual, and I got up out of bed as he kissed me goodbye and headed out the door with his words of encouragement.

He’s a very good man and I am quite lucky to have him. I made some coffee, poured some cereal and jumped into the shower as usual. Not an exciting life but at least it’s a life.

I walked up to Washington Street, stopping by Hoboken Daily News and said hello to Andy and his grumpy brother. Then it was a wait for the bus.

At the next stop I expected to see neighbor Deborah and saw a woman with her hairstyle but this woman was a bit on the heavy side which was a surprise when I saw her board the bus.

I’ve been listening to Bjork a lot lately so I had that all cued up as I walked from the bus to the subway. The usual creeps and cops were around, some of the cops are regulars at the cigar shack and they generally give me a nod as I walk by.

By the time I got to the vicinity of the cigar shack it was starting to rain and even though I was early, I preferred to wait outside rather than deal with Frank Burns who has gone back to being a real schmuck again, all goodwill from last week seems to have fallen by the wayside.

Thomas was in already and he mentioned that it was his turn to close tonight. I told him that it didn’t matter, that I would close. It really doesn’t matter since even if I do leave early I spent my time exasperated on the subway platform waiting for a downtown train which gets there just at almost the exact same time it would be if I was closing the cigar shack.

Frank Burns certainly didn’t care, or didn’t even know since he was sequestered in the humidor rearranging things which is what a faux assistant manager is supposed to do. Zack was out today which gave Frank Burns the nerve to play it as he was in charge.

I suppose Thomas and I humor him as much as we could but we spent a lot more time and energy just trying to avoid him. If he’s in the humidor- we’re on the floor. If he’s on the floor we’re not.

It’s been about a year since Ron flew the coop, just in time to avoid the extra hours that accompany holiday drama. Already in the cigar shack neighborhood, stars and holiday decorations are up already. The giant crystal was hung at 57th and Fifth Avenue yesterday and will probably still be hanging until February.

Now there is an hour left in the work day or thereabouts. The cigar shack closes at 9:00 but since I will be closing I probably won’t be out until 9:15 if all the numbers match up and so far they do.


12 I Don’t Want To Spoil The Party