Category Archives: Just Me, Being Me

I’ve Gotta Be Me

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I informed a colleague last week, that there is very little that I cannot somehow smutty up without even trying hard, case in point a call with a bank…

Bank Operator (with one killer baritone): Good Morning, welcome to X Bank. My name is Joe and what can I do to give you outstanding service this morning?

No seriously, the man had a voice. Now I know the emphasis on “outstanding” is part of the telephone script spiel, but the way he delivers the line? Dang.

And just like that, I’m off.

Me (with my never far from dirty, but now pure gutter mind for that voice, is remembering to behave): Well regrettably there’s nothing you can do for me Joe, however you can make *Name on Debit Card in My Hand* very happy. I found the card on the subway platform and I’m sure *Name* would appreciate knowing it’s not just floating out there.

Joe: Oh! Well that’s very nice of you to report it in. Let me check the system; what is the number on the card?

Me (in best professional voice – I said I was trying to behave wasn’t I?):*card number*

Joe: Thank you, one moment please…

I grab my scissors out of the drawer while I wait because I know what’s coming next.

Joe: Yes, I have it. Again I would like to thank you for calling this in; that was very nice of you to do. As for the card…

Me (interrupting): I know, I know. I’m taking scissors to it as we speak and will drop it in the shredder for confetti making in a moment.

Joe: Okay. Thank you. Is that all Miss… (he realizes I never gave my name and quickly sallies forth) or is there anything I can do for you?

Oh and there goes that dang emphasis again.

Me (not entirely joking): Read the phone book or 50 Shades or… oh never mind.

Joe (definitely laughing): Wow it’s only Monday morning and not even nine o’clock.

Me (behaving myself thrown out of the window): Right, as though you’ve never talked dirty on the phone first thing on a Monday morning before. You’ve given outstanding oral service today, Joe. You have an excellent day.

Joe (barely keeping the amusement out of his voice): And you as well, thank you for using X Bank.

Me (stage whisper): Not the way I’d like to use you and your voice right now.

I hang up the phone to the sound of much chuckling on the other end.

I gotta be me, I gotta be meeeeee 

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Let’s see how the others are slicing it this Tuesday…

Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

 

Verbal Diarrhea Diaries: Toot

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Verbal Diarrhea Diaries aka the crap that comes out of my mouth sometimes that surprises even me.

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A little ego tripping twixt myself and a recent attendee of one of my classes with whom a fun rapport developed via email exchange.

Me:  Weren’t you supposed to email me and remind me to send you this information?

Erstwhile Student:  I had full faith in you that you would remember 😉 Thanks for a seriously awesome training day! You rock…but I’m sure you already knew that.

Me:  * clutches pearls and gasps *

Why, it would be far too immodest of me to self-accolade in such an unseemly manner! I cannot openly concede the methodical superiority in which trainings held under my exacting tutelage are conducted. It would merely serve to further exemplify the depth of all other instructors lacking and that is unkind and unfair.  Luckily, I’m not fair, kind or modest and the horn in which I personally toot is often of a decibel suitable to guide coastal ships in inclement weather.  😉

Besides, the class is only is good as the attendees, many thanks to you for being an equally awesome student.

Erstwhile Student:  LOL! Oh, if only an eighth of my technical classes were even half  as entertaining as yours. Thanks!

Note to my fellow trainers, instructors and teachers reading this. JUST KIDDING!!!!  As I said ego tripping, but it is always wonderful to receive such emails acknowledging your work.

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Let’s see how others are slicing through their Tuesday…

Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

A Pearl Among Stores

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How did I not know Pearl Paint closed?!?! Not just closed, but closed for a little over a year now. It felt as though I was just there recently, but time is indeed fluid to the heart as it was December 2013 I was there last according to my bank statement.

I had wanted to go by Pearl on a day off just because. The place always inspired me and as one can see from the dearth of posting as of late, I could use it. Still, something said go online and check the store’s opening hours before I drag my tail down there and that’s how I learned yet another NYC societal if not historical landmark that has fallen victim to the giant called capitalism.

After the shock of the discovery, I semi-joked I have not been this mournful since I read the Red Wedding scene in George R.R. Martin’s “A Storm of Swords“.  If you do not know what the Red Wedding is by now, don’t bother asking. Just understand that it’s something bad.  Sucker punch, gasp out loud, gut wrenching bad.

Because it’s a new wound for me, i want to pass by the site and poor libations on its threshold. That’s how the unexpected loss of Pearl Paint has struck me.

Pearl Paint was an eight decades old institution. Whether the amateur looking for stamped tin foil for an occasional scrapbook or the professional looking for gold foil leaf for a mural in a skyscraper, Pearl had it. I did not go there often, as Pearl was off my beaten path, but once I was there, I was there for a couple of hours minimum. Since the early 80’s, when I first discovered the place, it was six floors of dusty, seemingly nonsensical, glorious mayhem.  But if I needed it artistically, Pearl Paint had it. And it was not just an art supply store for many of the staff and fellow shoppers were artists in their own right. I come in with what I think is a simple question or request and leave some time later having absorbed knowledge, techniques, tools and sometimes gossip.

And now it’s all gone.

I mean doors locked, gates closed, assets sold off .

*Gone*.

Yes, there are other art supply stores, this is New York City, but none like Pearl Paint. I Alas no, like so many other places and spaced becoming a part of my past, it’s now just memory.

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Come see how others are slicing up their days.

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

Tuesday Slice of Life Story Challenge – Two Writing Teachers

 

Come Out Best

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I’ve always come out the best
Except the carefree day
I gave my heart away

To he who put it to the test
For no other reason I could see
Than my pain kept his company

But my soul’s joy shall not be wrest
It would not allow this
Theft of my complete bliss        `

One thing I can attest
Even through heartache’s burn
There are lessons to learn

I learned to return the jest
That was made of my heart
Put back the pieces torn apart

And to walk away blessed
To know a peace so real
That no one can steal

Now his heart feels the unrest
While I do feel for his soul
He must find his own console

And again I come out the best
With joy my intact
Never looking back

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National Poetry Month – Day 20

Richard (the diminutive)

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When he knocks,
My doors open
And I let him inside
For I am alive
By the power
Of his breath
That inhales
And exhales
In tune with mine

He kisses me,
Yet he has no lips
He fondles me,
Gripping me tightly
Yet he has no hands

Beauty redefined
His distinct touch
Ferries his intent to me
If I sleep, he woos me
Should the blaze of passion strikes
And revels in gregariousness
When I rise

And yes, I rise
And yes, I crumble
And yes, I rise
And yes, I crumble

I know him deeply,
Just as
He knows me deeply
From his many visit
To my halls

Until I’m done away
In colorific splendor

But he knows how to mend
when I falter

For with a gentle kiss
My doors open again

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National Poetry Month Day 9

Tiki Bar

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With ambition
The tiki bar’s ‘tender
Takes cold mint leaves
To gently crush them
Into a glass for my mojito

I see his mood elevate
While serendipitously gazing
At my languorous gyrating form
The island music changes from
The daytime’s manic mamba
To the sensuous
Sunset rhythms now heard

Giving me my drink
His eyes and smile linger
Just a moment longer
To watch
One cool drop of condensation
Slide down from
My glass to
My fingertip to
My clavicle to
My solar plexus

Hands raised high
Above my head
I smile sinfully
Letting the swing
Of my well tanned body
Captivate
Before I meld
Into the impromptu parade
Of dancing bodies that pass by

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National Poetry Month – Day 8

I Dive

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Forever airborne am I
Vailing to my goal
Yet never landing

Living in day and night sky
Yet earth-bound without soul
Is so demanding

Sun and stars don’t ask why
Sentenced without parole
My time ever expanding

And like my brothers to do or die
I glide in complete control
Until I break notwithstanding

rosa-mexicana-fly

The decor at Rosa Mexicana Restaurant. You cannot really see it in the pictures, these figures cover an entire wall of cascading water in precision. Though an homage to the La Quebrada Cliff Divers of Acapulco,  Mexican, renowned for their diving skills, these particular dives ever sail through the air never to land (unless the rod that holds them in place breaks).

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National Poetry Month – Day 7

Straight Up

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As I am walking back from Starbucks I see this guy in The Commons, casually walking opposite me, heading towards my direction. A natural ginger, his hair was a thick curling ombre of dark russet at the roots, to the much brighter near strawberry blonde tips where the sunlight touched. The overall effect was that of an ochre nimbus of sorts as he strolled.  But that was not what caught my attention.  Was he attractive? Yes. Oh yes. Not in the he could be a model vein, but definitely eye-catching and holding. I smile behind my grande whole milk, low foam, no water, extra shot, dash of chocolate, but nothing complicated chai cup, watching a couple of college girls turning their necks in an Exorcist worthy near 180 degree twist as they notice him pass.

What really struck me about him was his stature. He stood, or rather walked, very straight.  Not the tight gripped; stick up the arse kind of straight, either. Most of tall adults I know, male and female, walk with a slight curve to their shoulders and backs from years of ducking doorways etc.  Not him. His stride is confident, shoulders relaxed and straight.  Yet there was a definitive uprightness to his posture.

“Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s not polite to stare?”

I was not aware of staring, but clearly I was as he stopped right in front of me with his teasing chastisement. Caught by surprise I simply said exactly what I was thinking.

“I was admiring your erectness.”

“What?!”

He blinked, looking at his crotch and then back at me incredulously. Only then did I realize my wording. Crap! So that’s what that feels like from the other side! Such Freudian slips are so rarely accidental from me that I caught my own self off guard.

“Your posture! I meant your posture! Your posture is very straight for such a tall guy. Oh Jiminy Crickets!” I nearly spit out my chai, fumbling over my words and laughing, making a concentrated effort to keep my eyes on the head I can see.

“Good save!” He grinned. “My chiropractor, proctologist and I thank you.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” I laugh walking away. “You enjoy your day!”

“I most certainly will now.” His fading chuckle reached me.

I bet he’s still laughing.

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Slice of Life Writing Challenge | Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

Cee’s Odd Ball Challenge – Fly

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rosa-mexicana-fly

 

rosa-mexicana-divers-wall

Decor at Rosa Mexicana Restaurant. You cannot really see it in the pictures, these cover an entire wall of cascading water in precision. It is an homage to the La Quebrada Cliff Divers of Acapulco,  Mexican, renowned for their diving skills.

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Cee’s Odd-Ball Photo Challenge 2015-Week 14

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