Tag Archives: Cigar Shack

I Got You

The ghost of Tom Bosley haunts the shopping mall. Parents push strollers while babies bawl. Nothing active, nothing remains. Automatic focus brings forth no gains. Certain things are different, certain things are the same.
If it’s all the same to you, please repeat your name. Belief is a system, belief in a system. Systemic revolt revolves all over the place. 100 days, 100 nights plays on the public announcement speakers.
No one really ever knows where it comes from, nor do they know where it is going. In limbo, a suspended animation. Is that a light at the end of the tunnel or is it an illusion, a mirage?
Snotty 30 year old teenagers mill about, causing a ruckus, making a scene. This sort of thing has got to end sooner or later. ‘Preferably sooner’ she said. Salt & pepper hair club for mensch belies a pressure drop, unsafe for those who aren’t concerned.
Beautiful women stand around outside holding signs for Project Worldwide. Information not shared with the unknowns.
And that more than likely includes you, you nosy person. Said loosely of course.

That’s where I began today. Not much else to say.
I did have the meeting. I wasn’t as anxious before the meeting as I am now. The guy I met was nice enough. He showed up and it was ‘quick, follow me’ as he trotted away. I did my best to keep up.

He talked and talked, no questions really. He asked for my sandwich which I of course had and gave to him. Then it was a tour of the premises after about 20 minutes of him talking.

It was a large enough complex, so many offices both large and small as well as indeterminate size. On the way I met Arnold who seemed nice enough. He was hired eight days ago. More offices and conference rooms.

I had to text the job to let them know I was going to be late. The guy I met handed me over to Arnold who finally asked me questions. He worked in hospitality. No so much of a listener though.

I explained that I am currently working retail and he then asked me if I was working in an office in the building that houses the cigar shack. I had to explain to him that no, I work retail.

It was an odd meeting and I left with a lot less confidence that I had yesterday. I was prepared for it this morning and afterwards I left feeling discombobulated. I got to the cigar shack about 15 minutes later than usual.



Sean aka Ryan aka Krispy


Sorry about the poetry thing at the start of tonight’s entry. Felt I had to write something. Both Thomas and the brain dead Bradley were hovering about looking at most everything that I did. If I smile, Thomas asks why am I laughing.

It doesn’t matter about the brain dead Bradley since neither one of us is talking to the other unless it absolutely has to happen. I did think it was odd when a customer came in after the brain dead Bradley left asking if Bradley was in. Was it a reader or just a mistake? Or perhaps it was ol’ lazy teat itself.

I’ll never know and I’ll probably care even less.

I Ain’t Hearing U

Another dismal and dreary day exploiting the system whichever way I can. Today was yet another grey day, overcast skies, drizzle every now and then. But I didn’t mind, I was going to be at work anyhow.

Last night Bill and I watched Nurse Jackie. Sometimes we’re in the mood to follow through with the United States of Tara, but last night was not one of those nights. Instead we watched the second half of the Ed Show before Bill went to bed.

I stayed up watching drivel of course and surfing the interwebs once again. Slept fairly well last night, no complaints, no horses named Charlie making an appearance. My knee is still messed up though, despite what Miss Lazy Teat Greg might think or write.

Let it get it straight because as the universe can tell you I can never get anything straight. The indignant manner of which Miss Lazy Teat Greg was humorous in hindsight. The mere mention of looking into Workers Compensation really got its vaginal juices a flowing.

Imagine if I actually pursued such a plan. Lawyers and friends have suggested looking into it and I’ve been hesitant, but having the feeling that if I do such a thing Miss Lazy Teat Greg would have a hemorrhage could make it all worthwhile.

And Miss Lazy Teat Greg really thinks I should be a more dedicated worked like the Bradley. That was a super sweet line, almost like it was written by the Bradley’s cross dressing (Holy Week plug) cousin Jorgen.

But that’s neither here nor there just as the Bradley is neither here nor there. He’s not here right now and for that I am glad. No, he has left to run his Jazz and Cigars and Whiskey event at a local cigar dive. 5 people signed up for it so I guess it’s a ‘success’.

The other day the elderly woman on the second floor passed away in her sleep. Antonia was her name and whenever I saw her I was always glad to help with groceries or her mail and taking out her trash. I suppose if you’re going to go, going when you’re asleep would be the way to go.

There is a viewing tonight around the block from the apartment, but me being at work means that I can’t make it, and forget about the funeral. That’s tomorrow and I’m definitely working, after a morning meeting with someone who I hope thinks I’m the bee’s knees.

I could use a better knee and I suppose a bee’s knee would suffice. Just have to stay away from those pollen zones. It’s been another long day on my feet in dress shoes on a concrete floor.

I have to say I am disappointed that Miss Lazy Teat Greg will not reveal its secrets for keeping knees fresh, I guess a magician never reveals its secrets and it’s all about the sleight of hand with Miss Lazy Teat Greg. Thanks for giving me something to write about Miss Lazy Teat Greg. You’re a prince, or a princess or something to be revealed at a later date.

I did meet a wood worker named Bill Hampton today. Bill has been coming into the store and getting empty cigar boxes from time to time. Today he came in to show one of the projects that he worked on, a banjo made from a cigar box. He even let me give it a strum.

2 work days in a row where someone brought in a guitar (or a banjo) and let me give it a go. Richard Lloyd from Television came in a few months ago with a classic Gibson acoustic and even he let me give it a strum. So despite working with the brain dead Bradley and Thomas it wasn’t such a bad day but it could have been better and not bitter.




Bill Hampton and his cigar box banjo