Tag Archives: Cigar Shop

I’m Gonna Make It Better

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Man it’s hummus out. Been hummus all day. Goddamn chick peas. And where’s the pita, huh? I ordered pita! Where it be? It was back to work at the cigar shop. Things moving slowly on the other front. I am resigning myself to the fact that I may be at the cigar shop longer than I had anticipated.

It’s not bad, I still have my mantra, which is “I still have a job’.After 2 days off I find it difficult to get back to work. Was it always this way? Maybe. I don’t remember. I slept a deep sleep last night and there was difficulty in waking up this morning.

No melatonin involved, just no desire to leave a barely air conditioned bedroom. I decided to catch the 10:30 bus instead of the 10:15 bus. No need to hustle, too hummus. Once again my white shirt was translucent by the time I got to the bus stop.

I did finish a cigar that I started last night while I waited for the bus but couldn’t take my usual seat since there was a stay at home dad with his infant sitting there. See? I am considerate.

But the guy is a moron and never pays attention when the bus he needs to take shows up and usually scrambles to get it together and get on the bus with a baby strapped to his chest.

The ride through the tunnel was uneventful as was the subway uptown. I was early enough and it was warm enough outside that I went in earlier than usual and put on my t-shirt and sat in the back room cooling off.

One of the usual customers who everyone seems to think is a drug dealer came in with Spanish food from Washington Heights for everyone. I did not partake since I had my own lunch.

It was Calvin and myself for a few hours since Raymond’s grandmother died last night and they wouldn’t let him leave early, instead allowing him to come in late. Since he’s still on a probation of sorts, they’re not allowing him any time off to go to Florida and grieve with his relatives.

And no breaks either. But there are no breaks for anyone even when working a 10 hour shift. One must sneak away, to get coffee, have a cigarette or get bananas for about 5 minutes.

According to Raymond, that’s how Marcus and Calvin came up through the ranks and so the cycle continues. Treat your employees badly, talk about them behind their backs and then stand back and let the buffalo chips fall where they may.

Calvin did tell me of his passion for writing poetry. Apparently he used to frequent the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe and participate in readings there, as well as having a book of his poetry published under the pen name Dushon, which is his middle name I think.

I have to say I was impressed with that.

Raymond came in, understandably gloomy. Nothing can be done and he wasn’t exactly able to fly down to Florida even if he had the chance. I did get word that Marcus was upset with my interview with a reporter from the Wall Street Journal.

I didn’t want to do it, but Calvin passed on the opportunity. You’d think that since he was the manager he would be the person to speak but instead gave it to the new guy, me. I’m sure Marcus will say something to me when I see him tomorrow.

Other than that, it was a long boring day. I didn’t hustle getting from the shop to the bus terminal while listening to David Bowie, Lodger. Still sweaty, still hummus.

One step forward with regards to Same sex Equality. Thank you Judge Walker.

I’m Wild About That Thing

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And we’re back on Monday. Worked yesterday, a Sunday and I certainly did not want to. But I had no choice. It’s the job I have. I dress like the job I want. Isn’t that the adage? Dress for the job you want, not the job you have?

If I were a farmer who wanted to be, let’s say, an office manager or a cigar salesman, does that mean I should be working in the fields in a suit & tie? Or would that be over reaching?

Saturday was a good day. Didn’t write about it. It was a good team, me, Raymond and Don Birch. Both Raymond and Don Birch want to leave the cigar shop after working there for 2 years. I can’t blame them.

There’s no future unless you’re management and neither are in the running for such a position since no position exists. Yesterday, Sunday was a different scene. It was me, Raymond and Calvin. Calvin’s the boss, assistant manager of the shop.

Whereas Saturday was laid back and everything still got done, Sunday was slow, narcoleptic. And Calvin being around didn’t help much. I do like Calvin though. Seems like a nice guy. According to Raymond, he’s a drinker and two faced and likes to pit people against each other.

Plus before my arrival, he used to use the word ‘homo’ in a derogatory way quite often. Not while I’ve been there though.

There was a cantankerous customer yesterday, fitting most every stereotype of a cantankerous man. An older gent wanted to step behind the counter while I was the only one in the front of the store and working with another customer while I was supposed to be going out to lunch.

He enjoyed pissing me off while he himself was annoyed with the fact that I wouldn’t allow him back there without someone else there. Behind the counter is where we sell the cigarillos, not cigarettes.

We can’t sell cigarettes thanks to Bloomberg and we also have to post an image of an x-ray showing a stroke victim with the bold words, smoking causes strokes. Several times a day we have people coming in to buy cigarettes.

Most customers ignore it and the European tourists are certainly put off. The American tourists think it’s disgusting and usually ask about the image. We tell them it was either put the images by the computer or have a poster in the window of the same x-ray image, thanks to Mayor Bloomberg.

On his agenda now is a plan to outlaw smoking cigars and cigarettes in New York City parks. Of course those rules don’t apply when Bloomberg is hobnobbing with his college buddies at the St. Regis where the fellow alumni all smoke cigars and drink freely.

Today I was off and I’m off tomorrow. I had an interview courtesy of an agency I signed up with years ago. The position was for the mail room, the money was quite close to what I used to make, nearly $20,000 more than what I make for standing around on my feet for 9 hours a day in a 10 hour shift.

I seem to be perfectly suited for the position and headed into the city nearly 90 minutes before the interview so I could take my time and not arrive sweating like a horse. Thanks to half a Xanax last night and the other half this morning I was pretty much cool, calm and collected.

The interview went well I thought and lasted about 20 minutes. Of course, as usual I spaced when the interviewer asked if I had any questions for them. I didn’t but merely stated that I was reliable and dependable.

At least I hope the interview went well. I think it did. I was told they were seeing other people which could be the truth, or it could be a lie. In any event, I just have to wait and see. At least I still have a job, standing on my feet for 9 hours during a 10 hour shift. With 1 free cigar a day.

Whether or not that resonated with her is another story. I did like the interviewer though, she seemed nice. I walked back to the bus terminal, trying not to sweat. Still calm and collected, though not as cool, I met up with Bill and his friend Tom.

Tom soon headed inside to give Bill & myself some quality time together and we stood outside and chatted. Bill has been super supportive while I maintained my neuroses.