I Ain’t Ready To Quit

Well it’s been a good Friday and a very interesting Friday at that. It seemed ordinary enough when I woke up around 9:30. A shower was needed to wake up, since there was no coffee to be made. I salvaged what was left of yesterday’s coffee, knowing that I’ve had worse.

It was only half a cup and it was going to have to get me to Washington Street and deal with ‘people’. I slowly drank the day old coffee and read some emails when there was a buzzer at the door. I asked on the intercom who it was and there was no response.

I wasn’t expecting anyone and if it were a delivery they’d usually say loud and clear who they were and what they were doing. I went back to the email and ignored the repeated buzzing. I got my shirts and a suit together to bring to the dry cleaners and also grabbed some canvas bags for a trip to the grocery store.

Knee brace on, I made it down the four flights of stairs. There was a young man standing on the other side of the door. I asked ‘Could I help you?’ and he said he was there to fix the cable on the second floor.

That seemed fishy since Antonia passed away last weekend and she lived on the second floor and I don’t much about the other apartment on the same floor. I asked him if he had some ID and he said he left it in the truck parked up the street. I told him I wasn’t going to let him in and closed the door behind me.

While I walked down the street I turned around and saw that he was still there. It was an odd feeling that I had, odd enough that I decided to call the Hoboken police department. I told them that there was a young man standing outside my building, trying to get in, saying that he worked for the cable company. They took my information and said they would look into it after I described what he looked like and what he was wearing.

I went to the dry cleaners, to Dunkin Donuts for 2 lbs. of coffee, the newsstand and the bagel shop before looping around and heading to the supermarket. I passed by my street, this time walking on the southern part. I looked to see if the young man was still on my stoop but did not see him.

Went to the supermarket and spent money, everything adds up to being about $10.00 more these days and I buy the stuff on sale mostly. In the supermarket I got a phone call from Hoboken PD and they asked for my name and birthdate. I gave them the info and headed home.

No one in front of my building again as I climbed the four flights of stairs with 2 canvas bags of groceries and one bum knee. Sat around and watched TV, made breakfast and the oh so important coffee. About an hour or so later, I got another call from Hoboken PD.

They were letting me know they caught the young man. Apparently he was trying the same thing up the street and they started asking him questions. False name, false ID, with a story rife with holes. And he had an accomplice. The Hoboken PD thanked me and what else could I say but ‘you’re welcome’?

A while after that I decided to head out and walk around. As I was leaving the building a detective approached. He was going next door to my neighbor Chris’ house and gave me a look as he was identifying himself.

I stated who I was and that I made the call. Chris had come outside and apparently one of the things the two crooks do is get some personal info from a victim and order computers and whatnot in the victim’s name, then they wait for the stuff to arrive so they could rip it off.

The detective took my info once again, checked my ID and then stated that I hit a home run. Apparently most people ignore this type of thing and they were glad that I at least did something. He shook my hand and I headed off enjoying a cigar, feeling good.

I’m glad I did what I did. If Antonia was still alive, she might have buzzed them in and then who knows what might have happened? Or Stine and Alexander? I took a chance and could have erred on the side of caution, but it turns out my hunch was correct. Much like Igor I suppose.
An interesting day, no?






I Ain’t Hiding

Today is Iggy Pop’s birthday, and Jim Osterberg is 64 years old. Still has a great body, still rocking the stage with the Stooges. I was reminded just a moment ago about how when I moved in with my father (quite ill advised) and he was going through my stuff in boxes in the basement.

In one of the boxes was a collection of cassettes, including some tapes that my late friend Jet had made for me. One of the tapes was named for an Iggy Pop song on it, I Got My Cock in My Pocket. My father found that tape and was thoroughly disgusted by the name of the cassette.

He made a point of telling me so, by yelling at me and telling what a pervert I was and how my mother would never have stood for something like that. True she might have been upset by the title of the cassette, but she would have gotten over it eventually.

This guy was more focused on just putting me down. After all I was the great disappointment in his eyes. I do have to thank Iggy Pop for pissing my father off like that. Cheers to you Iggy!

Today is also the birthday of Robert Smith from the Cure as well as the drummer for Wire, Robert Gotobed. A great punk rock birthday day which I would not have known about if it weren’t for Facebook.

Last night I slept really well, pillow between my knees providing great relief. The pillows help as does a soft gel of Fish Oil and Ibuprofen in the morning. Bill kissed me good bye and I mustered a smile. I had to concentrate to do such a thing and I think Bill appreciated it, though he says I always smile when he kisses me goodbye in the morning.

I don’t see that, I always feel I am scowling when he wakes me up with words of encouragement and a nice kiss. My knee felt better this morning until I have to descend four flights of steps. Still thinking of looking into workers compensation and according to Bill and a lawyer I know, getting the info sooner rather than later would be for the best. The window for ‘exploiting the system’ will be closing soon and my knee does not seem to be getting better.

I did get a new pair of shoes delivered today, but they went to Julio’s workplace and I will have to get them from him at some point tomorrow. And in my workplace today, it wasn’t so bad. I did pretty good in sales.

Hobbling and limping around might have a place in hustling for sales commissions. “Oh lets buy some cigars from that gimp.”, sometimes said sotto voce as I lead the customer into the humidor, carrying a torch in my hand and a tray to carry cigars while saying ‘Yes Master..’ over and over.

It was Calvin and the brain dead Bradley who was quite miserable today, no Thomas around to make him feel superior and that he was Thomas’ boss. It wasn’t so bad though. The weather was nice and I sat on a bench near the park and enjoyed a cigar and finished last week’s New Yorker.

No time to start writing during the day, so I am writing it all now, at home. Tomorrow is a day off and I found out today that Sunday is a paid holiday. That’s super great.

Because you know, Easter is when Jesus comes out of the tomb and if he sees his shadow, it’s six more weeks of Lent.

I haven’t heard anything about yesterday’s meeting. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe never. Oh well…


a rose for Antonia Mastropeirro