Life above the trees. On the fifth floor where Bill and I live, we are above the tree line on our block. No worries about branches coming through. It’s quite windy out so there’s always the threat of dead or weakened branches falling down and clobbering someone.
I had lunch today outdoors at my usual spot on Central Park West, eying the trees above me. It wasn’t raining and it wasn’t too windy but still a few people have been killed in the park by falling branches.
It was a weird day. Didn’t start out that way of course. I was anxious. Calvin was out yesterday and it wasn’t so bad. Today he would be back. I made it to work on time, determined to be ‘cheerful’. I walked into the store, surprised to hear Roots Reggae being played.
I walked by Calvin and said ‘good morning’, walked by Marcus and said ‘hello’. I asked about the music and apparently Martino Basher is a reggae fan and used some of his dough and recorded a reggae CD. It was horribly produced. I would have rated it a ‘D’.
The day was weird in the sense that the other day I was accused of being too silent while working, today it was Calvin playing the role of the mute guy. He wasn’t talking to me. That was fine.
Marcus asked me to fill an order that came in. I filled out the order, the total coming to over $1000.00. As I completed the order I asked Marcus if I should put his name on the sale. He said no. I did the work, I should get the commission. Plus being the general manager, Marcus doesn’t get a commission.
I did my best today, not caring about the commission and wound up selling over $5000.00 worth of goods. Left Calvin in the dust, though it wasn’t my intention and I didn’t care. A couple of rich, drunken Russians came in and dropped a bundle, as did a snooty couple from Barcelona.
Calvin sulked. Sean eventually came in, bringing the energy that a 20 year old young man has. I’m enjoying our relationship since we’ve agreed upon our common enemy. Calvin spent some time later in the afternoon rearranging the schedule since now there is a replacement for Raymond.
Some bloke named Bradley. When Calvin came back out he was quite chatty. Sean hipped me to the fact that Calvin likes to drink and after a few under his belt his whole mood changed and asked me what I thought about Marton Basher’s reggae debacle.
I explained that it was so badly produced and played him If DJ Was Your Trade, a Blood and Fire Records compilation. Deep, heavy dub from the 1970’s. Calvin said he loved it and was really getting into it. I also mentioned that Mick Hucknall from Simply Red loved Dub so much that he co-created a label to release these platters again.
And soon after that Calvin went home, leaving Sean & I to mind the store. It was a fast 2.5 hours. And a walk from the cigar shop to the bus terminal, from Sunshine Superman to Cherchez La Femme to I Feel Love, taking me 18 minutes, 32 seconds.
Not my best time, but somewhat leisurely, if 2 minutes can be counted as leisure.
I also stopped by and saw Julio & Stine. Stine made some meat sauce and had extra. She feels I am getting too thin and Julio commented that my suit looked big on me. I am happy and will reheat the meat sauce tomorrow since now it’s too late.
