Saturday night. Bummed out a bit. It’s been a long day. Started out early since I switched with Don. Instead of him opening and me closing, it was the other way around. I hustled up the avenue to get to the shop on time.

Stopped off at Smiler’s and got a bacon and egg sandwich as well as a stop at the Farmer’s Market for some of those organic chocolate chip cookies that I’m fond of. It’s a good thing that I did not share them with my co-workers since those cookies and a banana were my dinner tonight.

But of course I’m getting ahead of myself with my head up my ass. Got to the cigar shop a minute or so late and there was Bradley waiting for me. Whatever connection there might have been between me and Bradley it’s all ashes now. He’s dead to me.

Sure I will work with him since I have to but there won’t be small talk, or any talk if I can help it. Once again, I tried to reach out in a spirit of camaraderie since we’re working together but just about every hand I put out was brushed away.

The last instance of attempting to be friendly was asking him if he played any musical instruments and he merely replied ‘yes’. True he answered the question, but just about anyone else who did play an instrument would say ‘yes, I play keyboards (or guitar etc).’ Not this piece of shit.

Bradley did become more animated when Don and Sean came into work. Joking with them when I wasn’t joking with them. And when Don and Sean weren’t around it sure got frosty in the shop. Sean is being punished by Calvin and his hours were reduced.

He’s a part timer and just got another part time job at a nearby shop, so he’ll be working there when he’s not working at the cigar shop. Don is working on his own thing and trying to get out. We’d all be happy to leave Marcus and Calvin and the ass wipe to run the cigar shop until it’s extinct (which is only a matter of time thanks to Mayor Bloomberg).

I did make arrangements with my co-workers to leave at 6:00 instead of 7:00 so I can make it to Bill’s play. I will probably catch hell for it somewhere down the line. I did cover myself and made sure things would be running smoothly after I left.

I saw it as much like when Don decided to play the religion card and left the shop early for Rosh Hoshanna and Yom Kippur. The only difference was that I worked most of the day and not for 2 hours like Don did. But Don had clearance from Marcus. Not Calvin though. Calvin told me he would have refused Don’s request.

If it was no biggie for Don and it shouldn’t be for me, but it will be.

Hyman Gross showed up at the shop before 6:00 and I sat him in the back room among the cigar smokers where he promptly fell asleep. I collected him a few minutes later much to the bemusement of the cigar smokers.

Hyman is 80 something and it was slow going, not my usual manic pace. Bill told me what train to take and where to transfer and of course that worked out fine. We got to the street after a train ride and Hyman being an old man wanted to take a bus.

I tried to explain the buses down where we were run north and south and we were heading east. Plus we had more than enough time to get to the Nuyorican Poets Cafe on time. And it being an off off Broadway show, it would not start on time anyway.

The show was a staged reading and it went well enough. Hyman got to see Bill on stage and play some piano. It was loosely based on based on the life of Jazz trumpeter Lee Morgan. Once again I’d rather hear Jazz played live rather than mournful recordings from over 50 years ago.

I reminded Hyman to shut off his cellphone before the performance started and I could have sworn he did, but of course during the show guess who’s cellphone rang? Not mine.

Still despite that I enjoyed the show as did Hyman somewhat. Bill paid for a cab from Avenue C and east 3rd street to the bus terminal. Too many stairs for Hyman which was understandable. A bus ride back followed by Bill and I escorting Hyman home.

And now we’re here, a repeat of Saturday Night Live is on, Bill just went to bed. And I’m glad I’m done writing this. Off work tomorrow, back on Monday. And once again I won’t be posting tomorrow unless there is something worth posting about.

And rest in peace, Barbara Billingsley.