Saturday, June 03, 2006

Lucky Dime

Funny thing. I had just finished up at the Internet cafe on Thursday, checking my email, editing my blog, when I found a dime in the street. A lucky dime, because like a minute later my cell phone rings and it's my freelance agency. First I thought they were gonna need me on Friday, because it was already 3:30 in the afternoon, but I had a catering gig Friday afternoon, and I was figuring there's my bad timing again! But it turns out that S.C. needed me that very day, as soon as I could make it down. So I made it downtown by 4:40. I guess I'm an in-demand player. The only downside was missing The Office marathon that night, which I was really looking forward to. Oh well. I stayed till almost 9:00, proofing a few press releases, catalogs and style guides. The word jewelry was spelled wrong throughout the press releases. I caught a myriad of mistakes and pointed them out to the proper authorities, justifying my rather lucrative rate of 25 an hour. About an hour before my shift was over, I watched an incredible lightning storm forming from the 11th floor loft window, then the rain started coming down in biblical proportions. Before I left, I asked Jonathan if there was an umbrella I could borrow. He found one on someone's desk, a really nice one. The only umbrella I ever had that I could say I liked I lost about a week after I got it. That was like 20 years ago. I honestly don't think I bought one since. You can't overestimate the power of A Really Good Umbrella; somehow you don't mind if it rains a little if you can whip one out. An umbrella, I mean.

Did a catering gig last night on the upper east, worked with one other caterer, Linda, who I found out was a big Lucinda Williams fan after I heard her singing 2 Kool 2B Forgotten in the elevator. We made a bet on how many people would show up from a maximum guest list of 20 alumni and put 5 bucks in a pool; I said 13, Raul 14 and Linda 11. I was actually gonna revise upward at the last minute to 16, because I thought the heavy rain would keep more people away, but I stuck with 13. 15 showed up. I ate good anyway: a ton of appetizers: jerk chicken on a plantain, filet mignon with mango chutne on a cucumber slice, etc. Turned out to be another easy gig: passing trays, pouring drinks, badabing badaboom.

Have another catering downtown tonite, on Varick Street near the ad agency where I worked the other day. Hoping for something not too taxing. Gotta check my email now. More at 11.
One other thing. Not that he's ever gonna read my blog, Who Does After All, but I may have been a little harsh on N. in my last post, titled Human Downers for your convenience. I meant every word I said, but maybe picking on his enormous pot belly and know it all manner was slightly over the top. Maybe belittling someone else's physical shortcomings says more about me than him. Maybe it is a character flaw on my part. Well, I never said I was perfect. Now go home & get your Fucking Shinebox!

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