Tag Archives: Lisa Rigoux Hoppe

I Know You’re Out There Somewhere

I just woke up from a nap. It was supposed to be an hour long nap, and I set the Internet Alarm Clock for an hour. I got as far as a half hour, waking up from a deep sleep, apparently dreaming that the alarm clock was going off. It creates an irritating sound, two rooms away which would cause me to get out of bed and shut it off, close the window.

I guess I was dreaming about it, and the sound is like a large mechanical dog barking and it ‘barked’ about 4 or 5 times then stopped making me think Bill was home and shut it off. But he wasn’t and once I was awake, I couldn’t go back to sleep.

It was a somewhat productive day off. Laundry that was washed over the weekend was finally put away. It took a while due to time and the fact that things were dried on racks. The humidity did not help much with the drying. The usual trip to the supermarket, the quick chat with Isis and back home for breakfast.

I started to despair since about a dozen resumes went out over the past weekend and nary a nibble had occurred. I knew if I stayed indoors all day it would be too depressing so out for a walk I went.

I printed out a few resumes and decided to hit a few spots on Washington Street, even if there was no sign in the window, I talked to whoever was in and introduced myself, gave a little song and dance and dropped off the CV. Other places that did have ‘Now Hiring’ signs in their window directed me to visit their websites and go sign up there. Still, I left my CV there before heading out.

There are a few spots in town with ‘Join our Team’ signs in the window, and you visit their website and wait for nothing to happen. At least nothing happens to me. I’ve applied a few times, I don’t have any visible tattoos and am willing to stand and do whatever it takes, whatever they ask and no word is forthcoming. So I apply and reapply anyway.

A bright spot in my day was running into Lisa Rigoux Hoppe on the street. She was looking good, coming back from physical therapy and going to get a bite to eat before heading back to work. She mentioned that she’s been looking at the university website on my behalf but there really isn’t anything happening and the things that are happening are listed for the students. And that’s my competition, the students, the recent college graduates and the people who have been out of work for some time.

I don’t know what it is. The cigar shack for me personally has been getting worse and worse. A cigar dinner is planned and I have advertised it on the cigar shack blog, and I have placed other adverts online and sent out emails. My clients are uninterested or broke or what is the likely cause, my emails get sent to their spam folders since under pressure from the midlevel head cheeses I send them too many emails.

So there is that pressure to upsell everything. I have to stop treating people the way I like to be treated when I shop. I have to be more in their face, hovering around them and not sell the lower priced items but go for the big ticket items which more often than not, turns them off and after trying to sell a lighter for $1,900 they leave not caring about a $25 lighter that is available and in their price range.

I don’t care about fancy watches and I don’t look for them on people’s wrists. I can’t read people like that, I tend to look past the surface and see the person underneath the fancy trappings. My co-workers have an eye for that and I guess that’s why they tend to do better. I guess working at the late, lamented Farfetched or even Pier Platters back in the day, i.e. working for friends- does not really count as working retail.

Apparently I am ahead of the curve on cigars somehow. I prefer the larger gauge cigars and for the past two years management and co-workers have derided me on that fact. Now the premium cigar makers are coming out with larger gauge cigars. Management will grumble, but there’s the fact- I was right and they were wrong.

With regards to my co-workers, there is also the fact that they have been working retail most of their lives and are better at that, where I have been working in offices mostly and used to the 9 to 5, Monday through Friday gigs.

It’s still rough out there and I do have a job.


Road To Nowhere

I Am Loved

Back at work today. Woke up to a maelstrom outside my window. Definitely a day to sleep in and how I would have loved to have done that. But no, some misguided sense of duty called and I just had to answer that call.

I granted myself about 15 extra minutes of sleep which eventually amounted to about 10 minutes. What I bargained with for those extra minutes I have no idea but something would come up eventually no doubt.

Last night I should have gone to see Lois DiLivio performing in a shop window on Washington Street, one of the few shops I did not apply to. I thought about going, and thought about not going but once I was settled in at home, it was extremely doubtful that I would head out again. My loss, truly.

Just one picture from Lisa Rigoux Hoppe’s camera made me realize that I should have at least made an appearance. Regardless, home is where I stayed, waiting for Bill to come home from the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe, a celebration for Miguel Algarin.

By the time he came home I fell into the comfortable rabbit hole of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. Yes, I own the super deluxe version but this was so comfortable and familiar that I opted to watch it.

Bill walked in, tired and happy to be home. He did some computer stuff on his iPad or Mac Book or possibly both before he went to bed. I stayed up and watched the Simpsons before I went to bed. I should have taken a melatonin like I did the other day and like I did a few months ago.

Things were going well for a while but lately I’ve been stressed and my sleeping has been a bit fitful, so a melatonin tablet is on the menu.

Got a text from my brother Brian this morning as I was getting ready to go to work. He was 2 blocks away. I would have loved to have met up with him, but no, it wasn’t in the cards. He did warn me about the maelstrom and told me to be careful and I told him the same.

I walked up to Washington Street, to the bus stop and called Bill as I waited. He was his usual effervescent self and I was the usual grouchy baby on the other end. After getting off the phone with Bill I decided to call my brother Frank to see how he was.

It ended badly once again with Frank last week and figured I might catch him at a moment when songs from Sweeney Todd weren’t being sung. The songs weren’t being sung, but he had no time as he was heading out the door for an appointment.

He did mention that he was worried about me and I told him I knew that. I didn’t say it was from Annemarie telling me.

Soon I was at the cigar shop working alongside the Bradley. Let’s face it, there is no love lost between us. It was sort of fun working at the cigar shop when Raymond and Don were working there, but they’re no longer around and the only fun comes from Sean who works part time.

It was a long day and there was the Big Smoke event going on a few blocks away this evening. The Big Smoke to-do is a show where cigar makers as well as scotch makers hand out free cigars and samplings of scotch all for the admission of $250.00 in advance, $265.00 at the door. Some cigar makers did stop by the cigar shop and blessed the staff with free cigars which was quite nice.

Marcus hung around the cigar shop most of the afternoon making things a bit uptight. He eventually left, leaving Sean and the Bradley and myself to man the shop. And it’s been not as busy as it’s been the past few weeks.

The Bradley left later than usual hanging out with David Dexterport, a fairly regular customer. I have to admit, I enjoyed chatting with David Dexterport in the past but now I’ve been superseded by the Bradley. That’s the way things turn out I suppose.

As I got my ducks lined up to close the store and make that 10:30 bus the cigar shop door opened and I thought to myself, ‘Wow, that guy looks just like Marcus.’ It was Marcus. He was coming back from the Big Smoke event with yet another cigar maker who blessed Sean and myself with cigars once again.

I flew down to the bus terminal, a few steps removed from my closing the store since Marcus was there to finish what I could not do since he was staying behind. Made it to the bus terminal, next to last passenger before the doors closed.

And now here I am, at home in Hoboken on the mainland.

Dedicated to Jet Watley.