Tag Archives: Smoke

Ruby, My Dear

Thank goodness it’s Friday. Been a while since I’ve written that. I’ve worked 4 days this week, and with 3 days last week I have a total of 24 hours under my belt. Already it’s more than an unemployment benefit.

Oddly enough, I’m not as tired as I’ve been the past couple of days. Pretty much awake. Last night was quiet mostly. Bill was off to see a rock and roll guitarist friend of his friend Tom, at the Bitter End. I was asked to go, but it was at 10:30 and I didn’t want to go.

If I couldn’t get it together to see Karen Kuhl last week with Alice Genese, I’m going to get it together to see somebody I don’t know? At the Bitter End? Oh I think not. I was more than content to stay home. Bill came home, then went out again which is more than I would do. Generally, once I’m home, I’m home.

I just watched TV and actually went to bed before midnight. It was something definitely out of the ordinary. Haven’t been to bed before midnight in months, at least not when I’ve been out of work. It was all good since I had to be at Greg Stevens office at 10:00 this morning.

I was out of bed before 8:00 this morning, got it together and was out headed to the bus stop at 9:00. It was 16 degrees out and I put on some thermal underwear under my blue jeans, thick socks, a long sleeved cotton shirt and a sweater on top of that. And a wool hat, my pea coat, gloves and work boots. Once again, affecting the longshoreman look.

Comfortable on the bus, reading the last issue of 2009 of the New Yorker and started on the January 4, 2010 issue. Nice to be in the same month and the same year. I’m catching up. Sat in the back of the bus where there’s more room and more comfortable.

On the bus my cellphone rings. It’s my old Rasta pal Jesse. He hasn’t heard from me in a while and was just checking in. At least that’s what I thought he was saying. With his patois and the noise of the bus I couldn’t really hear him so I told him I would call him back in 10 minutes when I was off the bus.

When a Rasta calls so early in the morning, I felt he couldn’t have good news. I thought, someone must have died. I hung out with a group of Rastas in the day with my friend Miriam and thought I was going to have to call her with bad news.

When I got off the bus I got back to Jesse, who like I initially heard, was just checking in. No bad news. He was wondering how I was doing. I said I was fine and would try to see him after I get through with my project today.

I hustled through Grand Central Station, using it as a short cut to get in from the cold. As I walked up Third Avenue, my phone rings. It’s 10:05 and it’s Greg Stevens wondering where I am. I was a block away and was in his office in 5 minutes.

Alex, an IT guy was there helping Greg with his computer. Or rather was setting Greg’s computer up, with Greg just standing there. Greg doesn’t know computers at all, in fact the other day I had to explain over the phone what a lap top was.

I set about unpacking the moving boxes and Greg made himself scarce. After an hour or so, Greg was en route to the Hamptons and Alex was done doing as much as he could. He’ll do more next week when the Los Angeles branch of Greg’s company is in, after being out this week.

I had a break and wandered over to Cohen’s Fashion Optical where I got my glasses a year or so ago. A few months ago, my glasses fell apart. One of the screws became loose and fell out rendering them useless.

I did my best, took a screw from an older pair of glasses and somehow, without wearing glasses was able to get a screw back in. But it wasn’t the right size screw and left my glasses a bit lopsided. So I went back to the store and explained what had happened and low and behold a few minutes later they fixed the glasses and they were as tight was they were 2 years ago.

Still a bit scratched even though I’ve used special cloths to clean them. While they were fixing the glasses they asked if there were any frames I would like to see and so I looked around. The woman behind the counter was helpful but came up short when I explained that I didn’t want any brand names on the side of my glasses.

No branding for me, thanks. I left the store with coupons for a free eye exam and a 20% discount on my next frames.

I did some more work at Greg’s office and submitted my hours. Also decided to send an email to a recruiter that I was in contact with a few months ago. Cathy Cline.

Cathy was the recruiter who was disappointed in me when I went behind her back and contacted the employer since I thought Cathy was bullshitting me.

She called me the next day and chewed me out, mentioning that she knew how hard it was out there to get a job, even her son was unemployed. Presumably still unemployed since his mother wasn’t getting him a job. I did try to remain in contact with her, wishing her a happy holiday and also mentioning that I was still looking for a job.

She never responded to me.

I sent an email that was written like it was a form letter, thanking her for all that she had done for me and that I had a new job that I would be starting next week and should I need staffing, and I would be in the position to choose staffers (a lie) I would keep her in mind.

Almost immediately she responded. Not to reply in kind to any holiday greetings, or any encouraging words regards to job searches. Just congratulations. I had to laugh.

I left Greg’s office around 3:00 leaving it looking like an office rather than a collection of moving boxes. On my way out, I talked with Eric who was sitting at the front desk. He works for a company called Regal which rents out office suites to small companies that can’t afford expensive Manhattan office rents, which is where Greg Stevens is now located.

I told him I had a friend who was starting a job with a company called Executive Suites, one of their competitors. Eric said he’d rather work at Executive Suites. I asked him why and he said he was the only guy in an office surrounded by women and their drama. He also didn’t like the artwork on the walls of the office. I didn’t think it was so bad. A Hopper print in the kitchen area, a Miro print in the hallway.

I guess I’ll find out about Executive Suites on Monday, when I start.

Back out in the cold I walked my old route to the Path train. Now I’m home, feet are still cold despite wearing socks and slippers, and waiting for Bill to come home.

It was a good day overall.