I Don’t Feel Like Dancing

Well it’s certainly good to be home again. It was a longish day, and I am glad it’s over. It’s still difficult going back to work after a day off and today was just as difficult as ever. Bill had taken the day off to tend to his stage managing for the play which opens on Friday.

We puttered about the apartment trying to stay out of each other’s way. It worked out fine. I was going to work with Calvin and the Possum as well as Thomas. I was not looking forward to the possum or Calvin but Thomas would be in so that made it somewhat bearable.

Bill lugged a heavy amplifier down four flights of stairs to hand off to Tom his buddy who is playing trumpet in the play. I kissed Bill goodbye as we stood on the sidewalk watching Tom load the amplifier into the van with no problem at all.

A walk to Washington Street where I waited for the bus. I resolved not to flag down the bus and I didn’t need to since the bus stopped directly in front of me. No women in tight skirts nearby. The usual uneventful ride, only I don’t stare out the window, I follow my progress on the smartphone.

We made it to the bus terminal, listening to The Pink Room from the Twin Peaks soundtrack on my way to the subway. Back above ground I got my iced coffee and killed time before heading into the shack. While outside I saw Thomas which was relatively reassuring.

It was Thomas, the possum and myself on board today, Calvin at an offsite meeting for a good part of the day. After four hours, I went out to lunch and sat on a bench reading the last week’s issue of the New Yorker. A good issue overall.

I listened to Pandora on the smartphone instead of the iPod. I listened to the Cocteau Twins Radio and Brian Eno Radio which started off with Luther Vandross singing the Bee Gees ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ which was nice to hear and very surprising to hear on the Brian Eno channel.

I also listened to Lightning Flash (Weak Heart Drop) channel, very good roots Reggae. In fact I started out with Lightning Flash channel, moving onto the Cocteau Twins and finally Eno.

I made it back to the cigar shack and saw Calvin was in. He had me make some labels for some new cigars since most everything else to do was done already. It’s been a bit slow lately so most of the time is spent cleaning things over and over.

I was also told that I would have to keep the front door open since people might think we are closed, even though it’s a big glass door and with the lights on and transactions being made and people walking in and out I can definitely see how people might think the cigar shack was closed.

So the door was kept open. Calvin had the door opened the other day and when I mentioned that it was cold in the store with the door open he walked away telling me to stop crying. So with the front door open we got a nearly full exposure to the crazy loud club music from a nearby store for young women who want to look slutty.

It certainly drowned out the horrid jazz that Calvin is so fond of and in doing so made me appreciate the crazy loud club music. There was some head butting between Thomas and the possum this afternoon. I saw the flare up and stayed way out of it.

Of course which side I was on was obvious, though I think the possum had a slight advantage in the fact that all Thomas would have to do was minimize what he was working on and step aside for a few minutes.

Eventually Calvin left followed shortly thereafter by the possum. Thomas and I listened to the crazy loud club music while Thomas tried to play the Elliot Smith Radio on his iPad’s Pandora. Elliot Smith did not stand a chance.

I also had a super hot alpha male to tend to in the humidor, he didn’t buy much but man he reeked of testosterone and knew he was sending out pheromones in all directions. I basked and breathed deeply. Perhaps the hottest man in the cigar shack in months.

While listening to the Elliot Smith club mix we set about making the store shinier than ever since El Grande Queso is expected in tomorrow. For what? I don’t know. I just have to get through tomorrow and it’s a day off on Friday.


RIP Steve Jobs

I Don’t Even Know Myself

Well it’s been a nice day off, and after yesterday’s headache if it was raining cats and dogs it would still be a good day. I came home last night, Bill stayed up to wait for me which was quite nice. We talked or rather Bill listened as I told him my tales of woe.

He went to bed and I stayed up watching The Sorcerer’s Apprentice for some reason. It wasn’t that good but then again it wasn’t that bad. It was a good way to kill some time, to tire the mind and the eyes and prepare one for a good night’s sleep. And it was a good night’s sleep.

Bill was up and out at his usual time, way too early for me, but he once again kissed me goodbye before heading out. Such a nice thing. I eventually got out of bed and started my day. Had nothing planned really, just a day to decompress. I did have to do some grocery shopping and there were shirts to be dropped off at the dry cleaners.

A brief chat with Mona at the cleaners then a walk around the supermarket, pushing the shopping cart and trying to avoid the little old ladies who hog the aisles. I saw my favorite cashier Isis and she was looking good and as usual quite friendly. I came home and had a nice breakfast and after that, set about trying to figure out the smartphone and all the apps that I could get as well as surfing the net and checking emails.

A few weeks ago I got a letter from an old friend. It’s a rare thing to get a letter these days, a handwritten letter. The penmanship took some time to figure out and I felt that I in turn should respond with a letter of my own.

So for the past couple of days, I would sit on a bench by the park and write my letter. I opted to print the words out since my cursive skills seem to have fallen by the wayside. Sure a sentence here or there is relatively legible but a few pages written looks like a first draft by Ted Kaczynski, full of words crossed out and misspelled.

With a final post script I was out the door, enjoying a cigar and wandering around Hoboken eventually winding up at the Frank Sinatra Post Office by Pier A. On the way back home I stopped at the Garden of Eden and got myself a small salad since I noticed my diet had been lacking in green leafy things, to eat.

I ate that at home and soon after that I had a nap. While I slept I dreamed about our neighbor Mike who was moving lots of things in and out while Bill was trying to squeeze past Mike’s cronies to make it up the stairs to me. I set my alarm on the cellphone and also left the cellphone in the TV room while I napped.

I heard it go off and decided a few more minutes wouldn’t be so bad to sleep. It turned out to be 15 extra minutes before I got out of bed. I headed out for what is likely the last time for the day, stopping by Hoboken Daily news and seeing Andy for a few minutes before heading home and making supper for myself.

And now I am here, writing this and trying not to do much of anything else. That’s about it. My friend should get the letter in a day or two since they do live in town. I hope they enjoy it since I already forgot what it is that I wrote.