Your ABC's

I sat in the abandoned building.

The ceilings were falling apart. Huge swaths of it covered with damp mildew, peeling plaster, and paint. The walls were in better condition, some areas sheet rocked and painted white, giving the space a studio-like appearance. The floor was unfinished with rotting wood and some other covering like cardboard.

Metal folding chairs were arrayed in a circle around the room, the front door, a triple laminate job, would not open even from the most determined of pushes. A handful of people had gathered to read their poetry, waiting patiently for the reading to start.

This is ABC-No Rio. The reading. I take a seat, lay my folder of poetry next to me and relax, ready to read. Everyone gets their chance at bat, with some standing to read, others reading from their seats. The reading is varied but good. Like any open mic, there is no telling what will come up. Today, along with the poets is a guitarist, who sings several of his tunes. Here, at ABC No-Rio, there are no rules, no time limit, nothing. You read until you stop. It continues on as long as it has to.

Earlier today, I worked hard in Starbucks, blogging, and blogging a lot. I had fallen behind because of the holiday, and, frankly, I had a lot to say. A whole lot. Electra was there. We're not talking a whole lot as of late. We had a little run in and she's a little miffed over it I assume. I could care less. Not that we aren't talking, I find that to be a shame. But that we had a run in. Everyone does. People who don't see eye to eye, people who don't have conflicts, have an angle. Something is up. Someone is not being honest or real. But to allow a 'run in' to get in the way of friendship is foolish. Electra and I have been friends far too long to let a disagreement get between us.

She's too prideful and self important, and it'll probably have to be me to mend fences. She'll only bridge the gap if she wants something. Since that's the case, I'll wait. I'll take my time. I'm in no big hurry.

My brother soon joins me. He has agreed to go with me to ABC No Rio. We eat, rest, recoup from something, I don't know what, but we are not all that energetic. I'm looking towards another interview, which started off oddly. One of the hosts has me call him up long distance. For reasons he does not say, and then when I do call him, he's surprised that I did ring him. What in the world for? He asks. I don't fucking know you asked me to call you. Remember. Well...someone else asked him to ask me to call him for an interview.

I knew that this was going to be trouble. I don't do phone interviews. And this off the cuff interview was not sitting all that well with me. I took a few notes, hoping to cover more ground in my taped interview. But that was a lost cause. After the reading, the interview with the hosts was like pulling teeth. I've had tough interviews before, but this took the cake. I honestly felt that I would have gotten a little more from everyone if we came down to blows. My brother is stewing in the corner. I wonder what has pissed him off here in this place. Something is bothering him.

My camera stops working, and the one picture that it does give me is washed out. Great. It's lasted with me for all of these years and just now, when I need it the most, when my interviewing career has just started to move forward, it starts to fuck up.

Maybe it's the building. Maybe there is some continuum here that is working against me. Maybe abandoned buildings and me don't work. Everything is quickly over, and for the first time in a long while do I have the feeling of missing the mark. These things happen though. That's life, right? Things like this happen all the time to the professionals don't they? They all have the unreasonably bad interview, the odd exchange that looks as bad on paper as it does in real life. Although this interview will not be on paper, it will still look as bad as it was.

I left with my brother, going over the wreckage of my interview in my head. He was still cranky over something and I didn't bother to go into it with him. We walked uptown a little ways and parted. I was going to head all the way up to the 14th street station, but punked out. I was tired and the walk, although good for me, would do little more than wear me out further. I hopped onto the Way at Astor Place and went home.

I stopped off in the corner Starbucks to get on line and finish blogging. I can't wait until I can get ZAPRANOTH up and running. I canceled my installation appointment earlier today and rescheduled it for Friday evening. Hopefully, this would be it, and the mornings and nights at Starbucks would be over. I would at last have the Holy Grail in my grasp. Heat, power and WIFI.
Life is indeed good.

I close up shop and head upstairs to bed.

Hobobob