I didn't hear from my new employer today. Supposedly, they were going to check my references and make me an offer. I'm sure my references will check out, assuming they can track down a few alcoholic bar managers. Not always an easy task. I know I'm being paranoid, but I've had so much shit dumped on me the last two years that I'm understandably a little gun shy. I'll feel better when I hear from them.
I'm officially well and truly over winter. Except for a brief respite, it feels like it's been cold for weeks and weeks. I usually walk all over, but I've taken to the subways and buses in order to avoid the frigid winds. Jet gets a no-nonsense walk around the block, and if he doesn't get all his business (read: poop) done by then it can wait 'till next time.
I found a recipe for veal stew that sounded pretty good. I modified it with some pork cubes, and then got really creative. I gave it a quick taste just now but I'll wait 'till tomorrow and season it up some more. If it's as good as I think it is I'll publish the recipe.
Yesterday, after braving the cold and heading across town for a Gay-A meeting, I arrived a few minutes early. A homeless man had come in, obviously to get warm, not to get sober. He was standing by the refreshment table with a cup of hot coffee and several shopping bags. His nose was dripping snot and he was dunking and sloshing and eating cookie after cookie, all the while talking incoherently in a mix of English and Spanish. I took a seat and took off my coat, heading for the coffee pot to get a warm cup. It was completely empty. Dejected and freezing I returned to my seat as the homeless man continued eating and babbling. I pictured myself running him right through his bloated belly with a shiny silver samurai sword and calmly sitting back down. I would say I'm not a nice person but after all, I didn't actually kill the poor man for real.
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