Front and back and front and back

of course I like the black

Psssst..

I slowly turned to see the whisperer

it was fame

but then I already knew that

I recognized the voice

A pox, indeed.

"Sir, do you want another bagel?" She said holding the nearly perfect toasted egg bagel. No wonder why the bagels are always under toasted. They don't know what toasted means.

And a pox on the house of whoever asks for a different bagel when it finally does get toasted.

A pox! I say.

I used to write and then edit out everything but the kicker line.


I was buying Valentine's candy on sale and not because it was Valentine's Day but because it was candy when my phone told me I had a voicemail. I must have hit one of those coverage bubbles when the call came in because I certainly didn't hear my phone ring.

She was having problems with printing invites; she wanted my advice. When I called her back she explained what the problem was. I told her there wasn't anything I could think of that would solve her problem. The printer would work fine with regular paper. I asked if her printer had an adjusting lever or a knob for envelopes or thick paper. She said it didn't. Her printer most likely just doesn't like her invites.

In a pleading voice she asked what she could do. She didn't want to print them on her ink jet because the quality would be less. I told her that sometimes there is no solution. She wasn't happy.

It's fine to think outside the box but sometimes the box has teeth. If you don't want to get bit in the ass; stay inside the box.

I told her I would swing by her house later.

...

A swing with a miss

or an unsatisfied misses even

My replies were getting slower and slower mostly because my brain function was getting busier and busier.

A drive to the airport a 6:15pm was the first request. I'm walking through my door at 4:35pm most days and on Tuesdays I need to go to the second job. It takes fifteen minutes to drive there. It takes fifteen minutes to drive to her house. It takes seven minutes to drive to the airport. And I needed to get some gasoline.

The second request was to drop off her car at the auto body shop after I dropped her off at the airport.

A snow storm was scheduled to hit.

I planned to work on some marketing items for the second office.

Parking is an issue on normal days; days with snow are a lot worse.

I heard her say "Hello. Can you do it?" I told her that I could, although I wasn't digging what my schedule had become. At least I had a four hour notice. I went to the ATM to get some cash for the toll I was going to have to pay.

Happy Valentine's Day.

I stopped by the office after work until six and told folks that I would be returning some time later. I showed up at her door at the time she told me to be there. She got to truck some time later. "That's why I told you six thirty my time," I just sat quiet, it was quarter of.

The trip to the airport was uneventful; I was brought up to speed on a couple things that she had only hinted at before and she decided that her car could go to the repair place on Saturday instead. Things started to look up.

I got the ideas in my head on paper and they weren't as fantastic as I had imagined. There were readability issues. When it comes to form or function, I side with function even though most everything I read on designing leans towards form. "What good is nice copywriting if you don't catch someone's eye first?" First, a shout then mumbling. My gut wants to reward those who take time to read with pleasant easy reading copy.

I tend to whisper in a world that shouts.

A shout will get more attention but a whisper gets better attention.

What I had was eye catching but some info was hard to read. I felt like I was cheating people by saying "Hey, listen to me!" and then saying nothing when people turned an ear my way.

I figure something out that I won't be pleased with. I have a hard time pleasing myself. Well, except for those four minutes in the shower on certain mornings.

but then I don't have to tell you that

It's safe; I guess that's why I go there. I'm recognized but still unknown.

I do think I'll survive it; that's probably my main problem. It doesn't matter what it is, my past practice says that this too shall pass. Where the problem comes in is that I don't make things easy on myself. I'll wait too long or bite off too much. Some future day I'll look back, rub the fading scars and smile at my resilience, forgetting the pain of those bygone wounds.

I'm safe, polite and kind, usually not all at once but usually two out of three so I tend to attractive folks but sometimes I need to get work done. It bothers me that some folks will no recognize that.

He was standing at the bar with empty seat all around him. He was the only one there. It bothers me when people don't sit. I think he's under the impression that it gives him a tough guy persona. I think it makes him look like a fool.

I sat and gave him a nod because I'm cool like that. He started small talking which included asking me how my business was literally every other question. The bartender even rolled her eyes. He offered to buy me a beer because that's what big shots do. I told him that I would be sticking with the ginger ale.

The guy's a moron who won't listen because he has all the answers. I don't waste time on him too much. I'll keep my answers short and vague and use a lot of well-you-know's. He's too foolishly proud to admit that he doesn't know, even when I start making stuff up.

He asks about properties Downtown. I repeat that I'm a neighborhood guy but he still asks again. I told him I couldn't say much because big things were in the works. He knows some of what I do is real estate related and when he asked how my business was for the fourth time I told him "spring will break." It was more of a weather forecast than an economic one but when I got back to the office, the business section of the local online paper stated that spring would bring a robust market. He's probably going to brag to his friends/ex-cons that he knows a guy in the know.

Please don't be stupid around me because it is very difficult for me not to make fun of you right to your face which will cause you to get your feelings hurt.

Did I promise better photos?

I can't remember if I actually promised or just thought about promising posting better photos.

It really doesn't matter.

Either way the deal's off.

It's a little like Jenga

I want to get to my other computer; the one with all the good stuff loaded on it or attached to it. What I want doesn't change what is at the moment.

I worry I'll forget. I worry the feeling will pass. I worry.

I'm slightly itchy everywhere I have clothes. It's the same itch I noticed in bed after I had washed the bed sheets. I think I'm allergic to that cheap laundry detergent I bought. It like feels like metal splinters poking at me.

In a letter a friend wrote that she doesn't trust when people say they have no regrets. I thought of my own regrets. I thought of what the cost was for each. I thought about the lessons learned. I tired to figure if it balanced out.

I was frustrated with most everything that was happening in my life. I wondered about my choices; there were many, I second guessed all my forks in the road. I was where I chose to be, a secure job with benefits doing something, that at times, I enjoyed. But sometimes even a job you like is still a job. I wanted a change. I wanted to be somewhere else. The best I could do was get up and leave my cube. It was a time when I was still drawing with pencil, pen and ink. I could always make the excuse that I needed clean hands to do my job well. Clean hands were never truly achieved.

The men's room was by the elevator. She was waiting in her full length beaver fur when I walked by. I hadn't seen her for over three years. I thought of just walking by, to let the past remain undisturbed but I guess I wanted at least some sort of closure.

Closure didn't happen; renewed friendship did.


...

He wasn't bad guy much like a rattle snake isn't a bad pit viper.

...

I don't know how much of the bad below is the foundation for the good above.

It's a little like Jenga.

to me, anyway.

So, I bought a photo quality printer. I've actually purchased two other ones but they both were gifts.

I started printing out my favorites. There weren't too many since 2004. Twenty-two by my count.

There is that one of my neice watching me in the reflection of my truck's back window.




It still creeps me out a little bit. It's like being watched by a ghost.

the knowing nod

I sat at my usual spot even though the debate in my head was still going on. The bar was empty expect for at the other end where two regulars where sitting. I know them both, to an extent but I didn't think to the point where they would feel slighted if I didn't sit with them. I hoped the bar would fill in.

The bartender was a guy I had never seen before and looked like he was cast straight from Hollywood to fill the roll of old Jack the bartender. He looked like he was no stranger to gin.

I gave a wave towards the other end when that first eye contact happened and then quickly turned and sipped my beer. My plan for solitude was going to work flawlessly, is what I thought as a chucked a bit as a still slowly sipped but then one of them called out my name.

"Hey, Tim. What ya doing way down there?" I briefly lost any smile I might have had until I laughed at myself for being a jerk and not sitting with them from the get-go.

Bobby is four years younger than me and he looks eight years older. He's not a bad guy but he's sensitive and nervous.

He knows I bring stuff in for the bartenders. He was telling me about the bond the two of us have because he brings stuff in to and he added another name to the group. The other guy usually brings in flowers, Bobby brings in gift certificates from Victoria's Secret, I'm known as the Godiva chocolate guy.

I was going to tell him how I'm different than either him or Roy but if he didn't know already, I thought it was kind of pointless to bring it up.

I bring other things besides chocolates but they usually fall into the comfort food area and what I more often than not will do is to not stick around after I give the gift. I'll leave, get it, give it and leave with a wave.

There are very few women one should give a gift certificate for lingerie to and flowers are a risky gift to unless they are subway flowers which will get throw away as soon as somebody's back is turn or maybe even not turned. Subway flowers are close to meaningless as a gift and are a border line nuisance.

It came up that I try to visit all the bartenders equally because I knew that they would call each other and ask if I was around and if I was seeing one more than the others, the others would let me know. "You should feel honored, man," Bobby said with a sense of awe. I had to glace over at him because although I knew he was being sincere, I had to get the visual confirmation from the look in his face.

I don't think there is a Noble prize for bartender favorite.

I wanted to tell him that the secret to my success is doing my best not to look like some creepy needy weirdo. I come in when I know it will be slow, I leave a decent tip, I ask questions about them and I don't get involved in conversations about how much I would like to 'do' them. I mostly just sipped my beer as Bobby talked. I'm a master of the shoulder shrug.

Then the sun dozed

An old guy with a blue coat and matching hat seems as nameless as his cup of coffee.

A younger guy with a home brought lunch. He's using a gladware plastic container. He reminds me of Toby McGuire.

The attractive teacher just walked by. She was eating lunch with one of the loners.

I noticed her right away as she reached the top of the far side staircase. She walked my way with long strides and sat at the table next to me. She carried no food or drink, no iPod or magazine. She sat quietly until she made a phone call.

The sun shone through, lighting up most of my corner of the world. It was almost too bright. It almost got me.


Tourist were at the table in front of me, two couples about twelve years apart in age. The guys were sitting alone when I first arrived. I thought they lunching by themselves until their wives showed up.

I was having trouble figuring out the home brought lunch guy. He rested his head on his arms. (I miss naptime) He's about a third way through his quart of water. I forget the logo on the container. It looks like a smiley face with a blue carrot nose and it’s wearing a beret.

She's prettier than her friend. She has died her hair a fiery red.

"It's poofy in the middle and tight around the boobs. It's so girls can hide that they have a spare tire thing going on but I don't have that but I don't have the boobs either so nothing fits me" – the girl on the cell phone.

Vapid comes to mind, even before she states that there should be more pretty girls because that college isn't that hard to get into.

The girl with the red colored hair eats her French fries with a fork. She stab the fry in the middle, eat the left end then the right before she eats the middle. I've never seen a fried potato eaten so precisely. It's doesn't appear to be a very economical way to eat fries but she looks kind of classy doing it.

The old guy with the no name coffee works for a parking garage. He seemed to be fading away as I watched him.

The sun seemed to be struggling to stay awake. The shadows grew longer. The sun would sleep soon.

He had a coffee from Red Barn, at first he sat on a bench then he moved to a table. He pulled out a small notebook from the breast pocket of his wool jacket that he had placed on the back of his chair. He doodled something quickly in pencil and then put the notebook aside.

He sat there looking, thinking. He was in no hurry. When he picked up the notebook again, he used a pen and wrote for twenty minutes, occasionally looking around as he sipped his coffee.

Then the sun dozed.

"We have crabs!" Thank fish monger.

Have you even just gone to a train station just to pass some time, maybe to peruse a popular local magazine to scope out the advertising, you know just to see what catches your eye so you can steal design ideas?

So, you buy the popular local magazine for $3.99 and you mildly wondered why you're not being taxed on a magazine but you just brush it off and try to find a seat mostly out of the way. You find such a seat and sit down and start flipping through the pages, and you struggle a bit not to read the articles because your goal was to just notice advertising, when you feel a small itch in your crotch area and you think 'that's odd' because very rarely does you crotch itch and then the thought crosses your mind that you may have just giving yourself crabs because you are sitting in a skeevy train/bus station.

...

I wondered what happened to my ear buds for weeks. It's rather unlike me to lose things but people lose things and I'm a people. So, today I'm moving stuff around and part of the stuff is the holder for the ear buds and I lamented a bit that I had lost my twenty five dollar listening device when I noticed through the partly translucent cover that the ear buds were inside.

And that's what usually happens when I start putting things in their proper places. The case is a pain in the butt to use, it must have been a slow day.

...

Sometimes, I weary in being other people's memory...
and their common sense as well.

...

So, I was asked if there was anyway to retrieve a chat. I didn't know for certain but said there was certainly a chance and I would look for it. It's new software, something I had nothing to do with, my experience with it is the same as everyone else's.

So, I found the chat and where the chats are stored and it was announced to the room immediately. The receptionist then came over likety split and asked how to do it; she had a pad of paper and a pen in hand.

I was all over that application and I did instantly memorize all my keystrokes. I told her to go to the control panel and look around.

Most often it's enough just to know that something can be done in order to find a way to do it.

Look, please please just take a look about.


...

I chose my words carefully. If I say that I know something, that shouldn't be confused with "I think" something.

...

mad hungry

There is a slight chance that on occasion I may assault you to obtain KFC crispy strips as long as there is honey mustard dipping sauce.

selfish shot

There are sometimes when I'm holding the camera, ready to shoot and I'll see a great shot but I'll lower the camera instead of pressing the shutter button.

Sometimes I keep the best shots just for me.

the forgotten lost & found

I'm not lost.

I remain unfound.