Tag Archives: Cigar

I Run to You

Another day spent helping out Shlomo at the cigar shop. I thought Hanukkah was over but for Shlomo it’s all holidays, not just Chanukah. I don’t mind, a free cigar and someplace warm with a view of the street is all I need right now. I am happy,they are happy so everyone is happy, at least in the square footage in which I sit. And isn’t that what is most important at the end of a fiscal quarter when working retail? Israel just popped in looking for Shlomo who seems to have escaped from his electronic ankle bracelet.

A friend asked me the other day if I was going to the Maxwell’s Christmas party which was last night. I wasn’t invited and I was fine with that. I have a history there but it’s really not my scene anymore. I don’t know anyone that works there except for RoDa and Todd and neither of them invited me. It’s not like the Steve Fallon days where it was an open bar and filled with White Castle burgers. I did go a few years ago and tried several times to leave early but was stopped by various friends and acquaintances. I eventually did leave and wandered the streets of Hoboken for a few hours with RoDa.

Last night I was glad to be home. Bill had a lot on his chest that he needed to unload and it was my turn to listen. In fact I had to remind myself to just listen, not suggest anything, let him vent. I was happy to be there and gave a hearty ‘pshaw’ when Bill apologized for venting, I had to remind Bill that he listens to me vent often enough he should be certified for HVAC work or at least a listing as a casual therapist.

I do have a modest complaint. Some friends have taken to complaining about their bonuses this year. I am usually silent as they complain, waiting for my moment when I can remind them that they are complaining about their bonuses to someone who is currently out of work. Sometimes they understand, sometimes I get ‘Yeah I know but…’ In my years of working I have gone without bonuses more often than I had actually received them. There was that last Christmas at Wanker Banker where they were so desperate to get rid of me, they surprisingly screwed me over.

My assistant Ms. Miro and I discussed what we had gotten and she had gotten double what I had received. Then came the memo from good ol’ John Griff who said we weren’t allowed to discuss our bonuses with our co-workers. Once again a day late and a dollar short for that pretty polly John Griff. My co-workers and most of the people I supported heard about my being screwed and rallied enough to pass the hat making for a nice Christmas bonus despite what the useless and spineless Maggie Alexandre and her human be-in cabal had to say on the matter.

Today has been an interesting day otherwise. Leaving the building this morning on one cup of coffee I waved to people I did not immediately recognize, Julio & his father in law. Julio could tell I didn’t know it was him at first and of course mocked me for it. Later I ran into Tom, Mike and Juan at separate intervals. Good to see everyone, and everyone seemed to be in the holiday spirit. Now I am home, just had some dinner and not planning on doing much of anything tonight. That could all change once Bill eventually gets home.
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Make The World Go Away

I Must Be High

It’s a Monday and it’s been a weird weekend. There was the play Bill was stage managing on Saturday evening during which I nodded off about a half dozen times. Then there was an associate of Bill’s that wanted me to write a review which I did and it turned out to be quite nasty, so nasty that I assigned yet another pen name to it. I wasn’t even done with the review when Bill read it and loved it and sent it off to his friend. The next day was even weirder than anyone had anticipated and it was bad.

It turned out one of Bill’s cousins in Puerto Rico was murdered. No information besides that bad news. Bill was planning on going to the funeral which meant flying down to Puerto Rico for the day, but with the timing and the hurricane weather he couldn’t do it. Plus, he is singing the national anthem and Zeus Bless America on Saturday before the Staten Island Yankees game on Saturday night. I reassured Bill that his family in Puerto Rico are sure to understand, but Bill is understandably upset with what happened. And for Bill that is simply not enough.

He came home after an audition yesterday afternoon followed by some wandering around Central Park. I sat by the river and smoked a cigar and read the Carole King memoir. Bill came home midway through the True Blood season finale and I paused it, eventually stopping it all together so Bill can get things off his chest and perhaps cry on my shoulder. I was glad I could be there for him. He came down to earth just in time to watch the season finale of the newsroom which we both enjoyed very much. After the news Bill went to bed and I of course stayed up.

Bill took off from work today to visit his family in Manhattan and I did some grocery shopping before a major rain storm. Thanks to some rare good thinking on my part, I brought an umbrella and was home just a few minutes before the skies opened up and it started coming down in sheets. No busking for me today but I wasn’t too keen on staying inside, so once it stopped and the sky was blue again, I headed out to read some more Carole King by the river, on the way running into a lovely couple, Karyn and Christine.

I sat and read and enjoyed a cigar. I got to the part where Carole King was an abused wife. Really bad, punched in the face by her boyfriend (not Gerry Goffin). It was a bit harrowing told in Carole’s voice, how she never could understand why women stay in abusive relationships and then all of a sudden she was an abused wife. The guy eventually died of a cocaine overdose, found in a shooting gallery in Los Angeles. I met Carole King once and thought she was very nice and humble and proud of her daughter Louise who I had seen perform a few nights earlier.

Now it’s later, the sun is going down in a grey sky. Learning some new songs on the guitar, this time I am trying to figure out Jeepster by T. Rex. Easy enough but the chord changes are tricky.

How do I get to Carnegie Hall?