October 19, 2005
I’m back. Sorry, it has been a while. The situation that I started to write about continued to escalate, plus I did a couple of walking trips around the city, plus my lack of employment, plus the new TV (bought to fight the boredom), have all contributed to a lack of diligence on my part with writing entries for this blog. Sorry! Since I have a bit of a logjam with my entries, I think that it is best to write in the present tense.

October 15th A continuation….

This morning, my foster father’s 40 something year old son wanted to confirm that he was going to be driven up to his sister’s home. At 5:30 in the morning, that was not a good time to ask. Since the son kept pestering the father, the father finally said no. The “no” put the son in a bad mood. He started making unnecessary noises in the kitchen. Yes, I did say that his age was forty something. First, he started banging the sink drainer in the trashcan to get the food out. Then he started scrambling eggs (for French toast) in a glass bowl. The son kept making noise while arguing that a man keeps his word, and broken promises. Normally I don’t get involved in the petty arguments, but this one seemed to be escalating. I came out of my room and mentioned that there was a plastic bowl in the cabinet that would not make as much noise as a metal fork and a glass bowl. At first the arguing stopped, but then they started again. So the next time, I just sat at the kitchen table hoping that my presence would diffuse the tension. And I was correct. And it only cost me 2 hours of listening to the son ramble on about this and that. The son was basically trying to find an argument that that would show that he was right and his father was wrong. Unfortunately, whenever I pointed out a flaw in his argument (and occasionally in his logic) he would just change the topic, but the underlining theme was that he was right and his father was wrong.

After playing referee for the morning, I’d planned to go to the Staples (office supply) store to buy a bookcase, but things don’t always go according to plan. Today was the last day of the sale. Lucky for me (or so I thought) that there was a Staples store on 125th street. About a 10 block walk from my home. Arriving at the store, I asked the clerk where the bookcases on sale were. The clerk said that the 125th street branch did not have furniture, and he recommended that I go to the branch on 81st and Broadway, I though that was very nice. Since the weather was beautiful (after having almost 3 straight days of rain), I decided to go.

When I got out of the train station, I noticed an electronic store across the street. I decided (just for the heck of it) to check the prices of the TVs. I was planning to go to the mall in Jersey City to buy a TV from Sears. In the electronic store the TV prices were good, so I decided to buy a TV and a DVD player. The TV was $113.00 (including tax). I asked the price for delivery………It was $50.0!!! I decided to take the TV myself. I felt a little bit uncomfortable taking a 20 inch TV on the train. However, I arrived home safe.

After returning home, I realized that I would need a cable connector (a metal bit used to connect the cable cord to the TV). I don’t know why, but the Staples store was the first store that popped into my head. So I walked back to Staples. On the way, would you believe that a small group of boys were practicing throwing a football across 6 lanes of traffic (Lenox Avenue). At Staples, in the electronics section, I asked for a cable connector, the clerk said that the 125th Staples “sucked because it did not have anything” (his words not mine). On my way out the store, one of the other clerks noticed something on the shelf under the counter near the cash register. Instead of being professional and dealing with the object, she’s laughing loudly and has to call other clerks over to see. What was it? It was a used (??) condom tossed on the shelf.

The helpful clerk (not the laughing lady) from Staples recommended Radio Shack. So I walked to Radio Shack. In Radio Shack, the sales staff were not helpful. One clerk was being taught the name and location of something by a customer. The clerk at the cash register kept me waiting while he moved slower than molasses talking (in Spanish) to someone who did not seem to be a customer, and the topic did not seem to be related to anything in the store. However, since I don’t speak Spanish, I can’t be sure what the conversation was about.

Well, I left out a few details, but I think you get the picture. It is late. Until next time…