Hello my blog! How I’ve missed you. I’m still in the ‘Cut, but I’ve managed to slip away for a few on my last day here to reach out to you. I don’t have much time, but I am so wholeheartedly looking forward to getting the heck back to Queens. Hopefully my apartment has not been broken into. I no longer have Meow Kitty to guard the place and shoot quills at intruders.
Some quick notes from the Big Meeting. I was called down to a meeting room yesterday for emergency access to my flash drive, and when I entered the room I saw only the Big Boss Lady and her assistant, who happened to be in a strait up melt-down screaming match which momentarily paralyzed me in the entrance. The assistant, who is my amiga, did not see me, but the Big Boss looked me strait in the eye. I turned my ass around and left without saying a word.
Later, the Big Boss came to the headquarters room and had me do some things that her assistant would have done, but I assume she went to her room (later she emerged, eyes red, and regathered). This was all kind of anxious and weird. The Big Boss said to me, simply, “She just had a meltdown. She’ll be okay.” And later my boss mentioned it to me, and said that the Big Boss was very appreciative of my efforts.
Of course later that night Big Boss sees me and her assistant in the restaurant grabbing a quick bite to eat and it was uncomfortable and awkward as the assistant says, “Here she comes” – which Big Boss likely heard – and Big Boss went to another table to ask about something. Then on her way out assistant caught her to tell her the info that of course the person at the other table could not have known. I’m sitting there in silence, Big Boss left, we finished eating. Now I probably look bad, as if I were sitting in there talking shit with her assistant but que sera sera. This place is wild, that’s only the half of it.
In other news, I am so insanely hot for like 90% of the men who work for this hotel. The one that I could not care less about however, LIGHTS UP WITH JOY whenever he sees me, asks how I’m doing, and calls me “buddy”. Look, I’m not your buddy. The only person who calls me “buddy” is my dad and when he does it it is fatherly and nice not fucking creepy, you goddamn weirdo.
I’ve also tried cruising the internet for some late night company in my fabulous hotel room but to no avail. Just not a lot of trade in this wasteland we call Connecticut. I have to get back to the madness. Holla!