At least once a week at the paper, I'd go for lunch with fellow reporters or other people involved with the publication and we'd vent about what we thought about this and that and the other thing.
Working for a tour company, I'd have coffee every morning with a friend before work and we'd wonder what kind of goofiness they'd ask us to do that day and bitch about how we were not getting enough hours.
At an airline I worked at, I'd invite in a co-worker, shut the door in my office and we'd talk about all the manic and maniac people who were completely intolerable, but surrounded us all day.
In NYC, two drug pushers get on the subway downtown together and talk all the way to the Bronx about how their boss doesn't respect them and doesn't see all the hard work they do.
"Everyone want that position, but ain't nobody gonna get it."
They talk about how they do their job and how they don't say hey to people they don't know even if the other person says what's up and that's not disrespect, it's just the way it is.
"You know, I joked around with Dimitri, but..."
They bitch about their co-workers and how little they do.
"You know, he tell me he's gonna go get some ass. And that's cool. But it's all the time, man. He hates doin' his job."
And I sit there, while these two men in their forties go back and forth, talking about how hard they are and about scratching out a living in a world colder and crueler than I could probably ever imagine. And yet I nod, because I can relate.
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Got into NYC today after an 18 hour bus ride from Chicago. Tired. Found my way to the hostel in Harlem. Sunday. Church day. All sorts of noises from all religious denominations. Muslims. Jews. The Haitian church across the street has been blaring music all day. Men in what I can only describe as martian uniforms walking around. Women and men dressed right up with kids in ties.
Every store sells t-shirts.
Internet time dwindling.
Check ya later
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