Tag Archives: Tariq

For No One

Well it’s been a special day for me. I am quite glad. Susquehanna here I come, right back where I started from! Yes indeed. Broad Street, where the broads are is in the future. Not my future perhaps. But the future nonetheless.

I was offered a job and I took it. Leaving Sally in the alley. I’m quite happy. Not so much for the money but the incentives and whatnot should make up for it.

Suckling at the teat of the United States, though refreshing and I admit a bit kinky, hasn’t been the roll in the hay as they might say in Bala Cynwyd.

I’m sure to know all about Bala Cynwyd down the line once Susquehanna Investment Group shows me it’s spread sheets, at which I excel.

It was a comedy today. I decided to take the subway rather than sweat my was to the offices and found a rest room to freshen up in since I was early enough.

I decided to use some paper towels to mop myself up and in so doing cut my hand. I didn’t think it was so bad but then it started to bleed. I was trying to tie my tie and in so doing the back of my hand rubbed against my shirt leaving smears of blood.

That couldn’t look good. And the tie was a mess and needed to be tied. There I was in the mens room muttering ‘fucking hell’ loud enough for the stall set to hear. I didn’t care, I was bleedin bleeding.

So I wound up using water to rinse out the blood stains and eventually did tie my tie. In the interview, we sat, we talked, me with suit buttoned up to cover the blood.

I was offered the position we talked about last week and I played coy.

Actually I played Koi, doing my bit of the interview like a fish, my hands flapping on the side of my face, gill like, and my mouth making ‘O’ shapes, resembling a fish. They loved it and I believe my jumping into the pond is what set me apart from the other applicants.

A nice walk to Times Square was in order where I saw Bill who was positively ecstatic about the job offer. So ecstatic that we walked over to Godiva and he bought me a bag of dark chocolate truffles. Yum.

Not exactly fish food but celebratory in any event. Rode back to Hoboken on the Path train and getting off in the Hoboken station, who do I see heading into the city, but Tariq. Twice in two days.

He was off to Washington Square and I was headed to the rest room. I wished him good luck busking in the park and I continued on my way.

Stopped by the Guitar Bar where I told Jim Mastro and he too was quite happy on the job offer. Texted Brian, Julio, Harpy and Pedro. They responded in order, Great news!, Great!, Hooray and ‘LOVE IT! You’re the man Son Son.

I don’t know why, but Pedro always calls me Son Son despite the fact that I’m a few years older than him.

So all in all it’s been a good day, the weather has been gorgeous. Already I’ve gotten the ‘welcome to the family’ email from the Susquehanna Sallies. It’s been a good day, wouldn’t you say?

That's my Bill

That's my Bill


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For Emma

Once again it’s been a day unlike any other. I’ve written that before, but not today. The day has been a bit odd. But of course there’s a back history which could be related to the oddness.

First off, when I wrote what I wrote on Monday I was hurt and bitter and on top of all that, resentful. My only recourse it seemed to me was to write about.

Let’s face it, my day is so dull that I will write about anything that seems worthwhile. Or not worthwhile actually.

Mike Neutron told me about some recording studio that 2 friends of mine had been in, and hearing it from Mike and not the friends, to not be asked to participate hurt me somewhat.

I didn’t do anything harsh except for writing and for once I didn’t name names or use pseudonyms. I waited for the other shoe to drop, thinking that one of the two would have read what I wrote and tell the other.

Some feedback perhaps, but nothing was forthcoming. Texts that were sent over the past few days have gone without any replies. Still, it stings a bit. I spoke with Bill about it and he was understanding and suggested letting some time pass.

So what if the plan to be used as a radio announcer for a CD has fallen by the wayside? It wouldn’t be the first time they’d made plans and asked me to participate. Next time I shouldn’t be so eager to join in, I should just remain aloof and noncommittal.

It’s just that I have this free time which might not last for long.

It’s been yet another cloudy and gray day and I sat by the river, enjoying a cigar and reading the newspaper. That’s where I spoke with Bill on the phone.

I walked along the waterfront and saw Tariq was back. I hadn’t seen him in about a month, and I have to admit I was a bit worried.

He knows some unsavory types and I hoped nothing happened to him. It turned out he’s been busy and playing in the city and dealing with the situation at the Monroe Center in Hoboken where he and his girlfriend have studio space. The center is bankrupt and has been on thin ice for a number of years.

It was good to see him and once again he handed me his guitar and asked me to play. So I played Shame Shame Shame by Shirley and Company which brought him way back to the 1970’s.

He loved it and sang back up. I sang since I don’t sing when I am by myself. Then I played Love Shack by the B-52’s and he was really happy. He went off for a spell and I sat and strummed his guitar.

When he came back, he had a fifth of vodka tucked in his jacket and when I said I was going home to eat lunch he begged me to do another song. This time I sang Instant Karma and a little bit of Hi Hi Hi.

Tariq asked me to play (Love is Like a) Heatwave but I didn’t know all the chords. I almost brought my songbooks with me when I was leaving my apartment earlier but opted not to since I wasn’t bringing my guitar and in one of those notebooks were the chords to Heatwave.

Someone he knows, very high strung, tie dyed shirt, leather vest and dungarees rolled up to his shins and perhaps a bit wired stopped by and asked Tariq something. Tariq didn’t have the answer the guy wanted to hear and the guy wouldn’t give Tariq a cigarette and spun on his heel and jumped into his pick up truck and drove off fast.

I started some guitar improv again and Tariq loved it, so much so he would stomp his feet and laugh in tears. Apparently I have a skill. Just singing about people heading home from work, or after shopping or just pushing baby strollers around.

The people like it, Tariq loves it and I can’t seem to do it unless someone I know is sitting nearby. I must have done that for about 20 minutes or so. I even sang about people smoking cigarettes and in the song I’d ask them to give Tariq a cigarette since no one else would.

Tariq insists that I have a gift and I should exploit it. After that I gave the guitar back to Tariq and we talked a bit when I see the tie dyed wired guy come riding up to Tariq on a skateboard eyeballing me and angrily asking Tariq if I was a cop.

Twice he asked and twice he was told no I wasn’t a cop.

Tie dyed wired guy was very upset since his friend or his father was beaten up by a female police officer the other night and this guy wants to go beat up some cops. Whatever good feeling that existed around me and Tariq was gone when this guy tore off on his skateboard looking for information on his friend/father. Mood killer he was.

Ominous clouds rolled in, Tariq was now pretty much drunk and I was still hungry.

A friend who watches us play some times stopped by asking what we were doing on a Wednesday afternoon. Seems that he had been looking for us on Sundays. I wasn’t out there on Sunday and Tariq has been busy elsewhere.

The friend did remember that he owed me 50¢ for a bet we made when we last saw each other. I forgot but he didn’t. The bet was over the fact that Albert Hammond wrote It Never Rains in Southern California, and he is the father of one of the Strokes.

Nice of him to remember and I walked home, once step ahead of the drizzle with 50¢ more than I had when I left.

Lost was very good last night. Final episode, this Sunday at 7PM. I guess it will be a four hour broadcast with recaps and whatnot.
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