So yesterday was Sunday. And it was the second Sunday that I decided not to post. And it was also a day where I didn’t do anything. I did laundry so that’s something I suppose.
Yesterday, I heard from Pedro who was planning on spending his Sunday off (similar schedules, he at Riker’s, me in retail) with Connie and going to Summerstage. I would have liked to have gone but I had laundry to do, a bath tub to clean and Summerstage was too close to the cigar shop for my liking.
I politely told him no and he was cool with it. After the laundry and the bath tun scouring I was going to head over to the river and read The Other Wes Moore, by Wes Moore.
Unfortunately storm clouds rolled in and it rained steadily and violently on and off for about an hour. By the time it stopped a lot of the humidity was gone but everything was wet and still the storm clouds lingered.
I watched a Monty Python marathon on IFC instead and also played some guitar inside. I recorded something that sounded somewhat interesting a few months ago when I was unemployed but now I couldn’t figure it out. It sounded good to me and of course could use some work.
After that just watched some TV. While waiting for True Blood I did wander over to the supermarket and bought somethings for lunch this week. Working Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday, off next Sunday and Monday.
I arranged to have off on Wednesday since in order to drum up some business for the cigar shop, I mentioned that I would go to a cigar night at The Eagle in Chelsea.
I have been invited several times before and never went but figured that now that I’ll be in the city at a late hour, what harm could come from going to a gay bar’s cigar night? Might as well go and see what it’s all about.
Of course I’d rather just go home, but it will be an experience. And considering my history of visiting gay bars it could just be a waste of time.
The store today was fairly busy which was surprising since from what I heard regarding Sunday it was quite dead. I guess Calvin, Sean and myself made up for it. Marcus was back from his Italian honeymoon looking dapper before he headed out for the day.
Once again there was no Moroccan Princes shopping for their father, the King. I did have a nice cigar while sitting on a bench by the park. Today’s brisk walk was courtesy of the Psychedelic Furs Talk Talk Talk album, from Pretty in Pink to Dumb Waiters, done in 16.4 minutes.
Avoided the clots on the escalator and climbed the staircase once again, two steps at a time but taking my time at the same time. And I did not fall on my hands and knees. Even caught the Willow Avenue bus and was home before 10:00 tonight.
Bill fast asleep already, poor baby, so tired.