Cursed No More

Pigs are flying, Hell has frozen and the Bambino has rolled over in his grave. Last night my beloved Red Sox put an end to an 86 year championship drought by winning the World Series for the first time since 1918. Andrew and I viewed the game at a bar in Noho. Afterwards, Sox fans were running down the streets of New York and shouting in celebration. Just a few hours after the game was over, I awoke for my opening shift at work. On the way out the door, I donned my lucky Sox hat in order to signal my side to the locals. As I walked down the subway platform at 6:30 AM to catch the downtown A-Train, New Yorkers who were still wearing their ugly Yankees hats, glared at me in utter jealousy and embarassment knowing that I was the champion. Now they have to deal with the curse being reversed and trying to win a championship back from the defenders, the 2004 Boston Red Sox.

Espresso My Thoughts

For the first time in months I am settling back into a routine. I go to work and pour some coffee, then come home and read. Not much too it. Therefore, I am lacking material to write about. Just by looking out my window I feel like I should have a new adventure to describe but honestly, during the week I often forget that I live in New York.

If its Starbucks that you are so interested in then I'll tell you about my life as a Starbucks Barista. I am being promoted on December 1st to Shift Supervisor; $10/hr. Not bad for a college graduate, right? Most of the people I work with are 19 year old girls. There are only two other guys in the store. The girls love to bring their prissy little attitudes to work and share them with me on a regular basis. I can't even make a move with out this one girl, Monifa, criticising me for doing it wrong. Oftentimes, what I do isn't even wrong but she still tells me that it is. Just wait until December when I get my promotion. Then they'll know who the boss is; the guy with the college degree and $10 an hour. That's right, biaaatch. (I learned that at work)

Since we're on the topic of bad stories I have from work....today my manager was singing 'Gin and Juice' and when she got to the chorus, I chimed in with "Laid Back!" and she just thought that was hilarious. I guess its because I'm white and not supposed to know rap songs. Actually that's one of the four I do know.

Anyway, I'm gonna work this job for awhile. Until I run out of money or go insane. Then I'll start searching for a 'real' job. I wouldn't mind working for the Starbucks office, but that would entail my transfer to Seattle. I could look for a company in NYC that would pay me to shuffle papers and decorate my cubicle. We'll see what happens, and you'll be the first to know. Until then, "Would you like room for milk?"

Ease His Pain

Its that time of year in New York where the weather is cool, the leaves begin to change and the Damn Yankees make my insides churn. I am just 90 minutes from the start of game seven ALCS. It is the night I have been anticipating since last year's game seven when I threw a chair across my house in front of my roommates guests. The Red Sox have made an unbelieveable recovery from a 3-0 deficit and will try tonight to be the first baseball team ever to come back from 3-0 and win a playoff series. The tension is strangling me.

This year has been very different from my previous playoff experiences. I am in the city of my much loathed rival and to top it off, my roommate is a die-hard Yanks fan. We've watched 3 of the past 6 games together and have swapped enough trash talk to fill the Newark landfill.

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Its now 35 minutes until game time. There is an eerie dark fog hanging over Manhattan. I've donned my lucky Red Sox shirt. I'm so nervous. I'm speechless. Go Sox!

Kaboom!

I awoke this morning to the shuttering of my walls and the deafening sound of sudden death. At 7 AM today a car exploded about 200 yards from my house and shook my bed until I awoke bug-eyed. The sound was as if my head was in a metal trash can and someone ran and slammed it with a baseball bat. I froze, wide awake, and thought frantically about what just blew up. My roommate and I met in the kitchen leaning out the window to stare at the pillar of smoke rising up just two blocks away. Almost immediately, a line of police cars made their way to the scene to be soon followed by a hook and ladder fire truck and ambulances.

The news first reported that it was a domestic disturbance gone deadly, as if the angry wife had wired her husbands car to blow. It turns out though that the lone victim of the blast worked in a chemical factory and for some reason had two spare tanks of acetine gas in his trunk. They must have leaked because when he turned the key....lights out.

Later in the day the U.S. Arson and Explosion investigation team showd up along with the ATF, K-9 units, and everyone else looking for action. The story made the NYC news and I think my apartment showed up on the morning video.

So welcome to the big city, Alex.

This Trash Can Dream

Now I know, "Spanish Harlem" are not just pretty words to say.
I thought I knew, but now I know that rose trees never grow,
in New York City.

Until you've seen this trash can dream come true,
You stand at the edge, while people run you through.
And I thank the Lord, there's people out there like you,
I thank the Lord there's people out there like you.

This Broadway's got, its got a lot of songs to sing,
if I knew the tunes I might join in.

I go my way alone, grow my own,
my own seeds shall be sown, in New York city.

Subways no way, for a good man to go down,
Rich man can ride, and the hobo he can drown.

Until you've seen this trash can dream come true,
You stand at the edge, while people run you through.
And I thank the Lord, there's people out there like you,
I thank the Lord there's people out there like you.

While Mona Lisas and mad hatters, sons of bankers, sons of lawyers,
turn around and say, "good morning" to the night.
For unless they see the sky,
but they can't and that is why,
they know not if it's dark out side or light.


"Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters" by Elton John

Money Matters

So I'm finally starting to feel my groove here in the Big Apple. This is my first blog from my apartment and as I type I can look out the window to the Manhattan skyline. I'm also into my third week at work and things are going great there. However, I still haven't been able to locate a weekend job to curb my finacial situation. It seems a few times a day I catch my self estimating my monthly salary in my head to see if I can afford rent. I think that with my current work situation, I can afford rent, utilities, and two bologna sandwiches.

Still, I have defininitely had a good time up here so far. Its not like I'm going to a Broadway show every night or having dinner with Donald Trump, but I have had an enjoyable time and it has cost me alot-of-money. For instance, last night I went into the city to have dinner with some friends, no biggie. My sandwich, "The Catcher in the Rye", cost $12 and I ended up leaving $15. I needed to get home and go to sleep since I had an early morning the next day and I realized walking to the bus stop would take nearly 45 minutes so I got a cab. That cost me $8 even though I asked the cabbie for $3 back from my 10. So after dinner, the cab, and a bus ride home, my three hour outing cost me $25. Ouch. Anyway, I'm not here to save for my retirement or put kids through college. If I breakeven, that will be a success. I mean, afterall, Money is for Spending.