Thursday Night Off
26 Dollar Friday
24 Dollar Halloween
Sunday Off
10 Dollar Monday
Thursday, I watched football with Howard, who was nervous about his pre-surgery appointment the next day, he has a double hernia, whatever that is.
Friday, I went out and played, as it seemed that people were going to celebrate Halloween upon that night, as rain was in the forecast for the actual day.
Halloween it rained all the way up until almost midnight.
I sat under the overhang by the Quartermaster and sipped whiskey, until such a time that I figured I could play across the street, under a roof that overlaps the sidewalk.
There were people sitting along that way in lawn chairs; they were renting a place next to the closed art gallery where I have played before, when it was too noisy at the Lilly Pad.
I made 24 bucks, after asking the people in the lawn chairs if it was OK if I played.
When I knocked off, one of them gave me 10 bucks and another woman thanked me for packing up at that point, as they were about to inform me that, although they enjoyed my music, some of them were about to retire for the night, behind the wall where I was wailing away on the harmonica.
Sunday: football at Howard's, and then a long conversation about things like fish, China and Howard's surgical procedure, slated for the next (Mon)day.
Monday afternoon, Howard knocked on my door and asked me if I had any pain pills. I had gotten some after they drained the abscessed teeth, but had sold the last 6 out of a bottle of 20 for 20 dollars to one of the residents here.
Howard had gotten a prescription for percocet (sp?), which he had not filled, after discovering that they would cost him 59 dollars "for just a few day," as he put it.
I told him that I could sell half of them to the same lady for the cost of the whole bottle, and he said that he might be interested in doing that, but sent me to the store for Ibuprofen, in the meantime.
Monday night, I played and made only 10 bucks, and also got a chip from Harrah's casino thrown in my jar.
I was pretty drunk at the end of the night and in the mood to try to double the value of the chip by placing it on black at the roulette table.
I was met at the front entrance by a young black guy who said "Not tonight" to me as soon as I walked in.
I had been told before that I couldn't enter there with my guitar and backpack, and that is understandable because A: they just don't have time to search backpacks and guitar cases and B: people carrying guitars and backpacks "probably" aren't going to be the kind of high rollers (like sheiks from Arabia) that they are trying to court.
I had been told this by another front door security guard, who had used the exact same "Not tonight" phrase. This made me see this kid as kind of a parrot, in that sense.
I got pissed off because the kid was framing the situation to imply that it was just a personal decision of his which had everything to do with me, but nothing to do with the stuff I was carrying.
I also got pissed off at the apparent enjoyment that the kid was getting from turning me away.
"Oh, it's because of the hat, right?" I asked, as a young (white) female employee stood by and grinned, apparently amused by the whole thing.
"Yup, it's the hat!" he said, as the girl giggled.
I was so pissed off that I almost threatened to kill him; I knew that had I took a few steps toward him, while uttering threats at him/them, he would have stopped smiling.
And, I was too drunk to realize that I could have turned the tables by saying "Listen, punk, you may have never seen me before, but I've been here a few times and sometimes they won't let my guitar and backpack in, but don't try to bullshit me like you have the power to turn people away at your discretion. If I go and drop this stuff off somewhere and come back, then let's see you say 'not tonight' then, we'll have a problem, you little punk bitch. And, you...Do I have to slap that smirk of your face, or are you going to start acting more professionally?"
Or words to that effect.
I figured, ultimately that a 1 dollar chip was not worth getting myself potentially barred "for life" from Harrah's Casino..
But I did decide to quit drinking again, compelled mainly by the level of anger that I had, which seemed to burn the alcohol out of my bloodstream.
26 Dollar Friday
24 Dollar Halloween
Sunday Off
10 Dollar Monday
Thursday, I watched football with Howard, who was nervous about his pre-surgery appointment the next day, he has a double hernia, whatever that is.
Friday, I went out and played, as it seemed that people were going to celebrate Halloween upon that night, as rain was in the forecast for the actual day.
Halloween it rained all the way up until almost midnight.
I sat under the overhang by the Quartermaster and sipped whiskey, until such a time that I figured I could play across the street, under a roof that overlaps the sidewalk.
There were people sitting along that way in lawn chairs; they were renting a place next to the closed art gallery where I have played before, when it was too noisy at the Lilly Pad.
I made 24 bucks, after asking the people in the lawn chairs if it was OK if I played.
When I knocked off, one of them gave me 10 bucks and another woman thanked me for packing up at that point, as they were about to inform me that, although they enjoyed my music, some of them were about to retire for the night, behind the wall where I was wailing away on the harmonica.
Sunday: football at Howard's, and then a long conversation about things like fish, China and Howard's surgical procedure, slated for the next (Mon)day.
Monday afternoon, Howard knocked on my door and asked me if I had any pain pills. I had gotten some after they drained the abscessed teeth, but had sold the last 6 out of a bottle of 20 for 20 dollars to one of the residents here.
Howard had gotten a prescription for percocet (sp?), which he had not filled, after discovering that they would cost him 59 dollars "for just a few day," as he put it.
I told him that I could sell half of them to the same lady for the cost of the whole bottle, and he said that he might be interested in doing that, but sent me to the store for Ibuprofen, in the meantime.
Monday night, I played and made only 10 bucks, and also got a chip from Harrah's casino thrown in my jar.
I was pretty drunk at the end of the night and in the mood to try to double the value of the chip by placing it on black at the roulette table.
I was met at the front entrance by a young black guy who said "Not tonight" to me as soon as I walked in.
I had been told before that I couldn't enter there with my guitar and backpack, and that is understandable because A: they just don't have time to search backpacks and guitar cases and B: people carrying guitars and backpacks "probably" aren't going to be the kind of high rollers (like sheiks from Arabia) that they are trying to court.
I had been told this by another front door security guard, who had used the exact same "Not tonight" phrase. This made me see this kid as kind of a parrot, in that sense.
I got pissed off because the kid was framing the situation to imply that it was just a personal decision of his which had everything to do with me, but nothing to do with the stuff I was carrying.
I also got pissed off at the apparent enjoyment that the kid was getting from turning me away.
"Oh, it's because of the hat, right?" I asked, as a young (white) female employee stood by and grinned, apparently amused by the whole thing.
"Yup, it's the hat!" he said, as the girl giggled.
I was so pissed off that I almost threatened to kill him; I knew that had I took a few steps toward him, while uttering threats at him/them, he would have stopped smiling.
And, I was too drunk to realize that I could have turned the tables by saying "Listen, punk, you may have never seen me before, but I've been here a few times and sometimes they won't let my guitar and backpack in, but don't try to bullshit me like you have the power to turn people away at your discretion. If I go and drop this stuff off somewhere and come back, then let's see you say 'not tonight' then, we'll have a problem, you little punk bitch. And, you...Do I have to slap that smirk of your face, or are you going to start acting more professionally?"
Or words to that effect.
I figured, ultimately that a 1 dollar chip was not worth getting myself potentially barred "for life" from Harrah's Casino..
But I did decide to quit drinking again, compelled mainly by the level of anger that I had, which seemed to burn the alcohol out of my bloodstream.
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