More of the same? Jan. 2, 2013

  

It seems she has taken our writer A in Hometown to the dark side, perhaps advising A with how to get a raise from our skin flint owner.

It appears the owner will cough up cash if you happen to be a pretty female.

This is not new to A or even her, if the gossips can be trusted, a sad henpecked man at home, the owner supposedly has made up for it here in the office, following in the footsteps of the previous owner in the wild days of the 1980s when anything goes.

It seems A has managed to get a raise within her first month of employment.

What her rich fiancé thinks about it, I don’t know.

But A’s special assignment includes writing a column for a man who is likely to run for mayor and who she covers, a distinct conflict of interest nobody else in the office seems to notice.

This outside influence on an insider in our office strikes me as too closely aligned to what RR tried to do.

Maybe it is purely coincidence? Perhaps such activities have always gone on, such as T, who worked in our office when I got back from a writing job in Bloomfield. T apparently was working with Tony I, a notorious mob guy in Secaucus. T fed Tony I details of what I was working on in exchange for him letting T getting on the inside with the Secaucus gang.

Tony I even bragged about it to me, telling me later, “I took one for the team,” as if T was a little too below his usual standards.

Fortunately, our former temporary boss is the only one not taken in by A, calling her “a drama queen” and not very good writer.

“She’s not the right fit for Hometown,” he told me during a conversation yesterday.

But our former temporary boss is fed up with the whole office, and still hasn’t a clue as to why the owners hate him.

He suspects the owner may have someone pushed our former writer out, putting too much work on her for too little pay.

He still doesn’t understand how much in the dark the owner is about her leaving.

But then everybody thinks everybody else knows something they don’t when she is concerned.

A is a lot like her, which is one reason I suspect she and A are connected, only our former temporary boss is right about A, she’s no where near the writer she was, and never will be.

Just when I thought the New Year might provide light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel, it turns out it may just be more of the same, something to keep an eye on.

 

  2012 menu


email to Al Sullivan

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Take me to the river July 7th, 2013

Image
  I'll go into the possible inspiration later for this poem she posted today for now she is once more delving into the concept of a row isolation and the struggle to retain strength during several years of adversity her geography is located next to a river named after Henry Hudson as she draws on an important metaphor for life as she lives it similar to an earlier poem that had her kneeling beside the sea in order to let things go, she can no longer retain in her life the wide Hudson with its never ending ripples sits on her doorstep a safe place she goes to breathe new life into her war worn bones and hot raw nerves she goes to the river side to keep from bursting what she is full to spilling and to avoid leaking out and wasting the essence of survival she cannot afford to lose the last few years she says have been truly deep and rough like the storms that rip across the river at times I'm strong she writes but sometimes I'm tired on the shore she watches the ships...
Read more

Hoping for the best June 24, 2013

Image
        I feel sorry for everybody involved in this trickle up game, not just the so called victims (we walk into    these things with our eyes open and are taken advantage of only because we have our own lusts we can’t control), but also our poet, who knows no other way of life, and must abide by the rules of a game she finds herself stuck in – and must do what she needs to do in order to retain any sense of self-worth. This is what she is, and this is what she must do. But even at her worst, her poetry suggests she is hardly the rascal the congressman’s PR person makes her out to be. She plays the hand of cards she gets dealt. She sometimes misreads the deck, such as assuming that her chef friend in New York was competent, when he was anything else but that. She also leaped onto the bandwagon when it came to our former temporary boss, assuming he could do more for her than it turns out he could, his temporary condition making him of little more use than a...
Read more

Ships that pass in the night July 9, 2013

Image
  A mentioned yesterday, there is more going on in regard to her latest poem than just the content. Again, we come to the possibility that our posts are somehow some kind of secret communication, wishful thinking on my part, of course, because I know she really hates me. I suspect I am deluding myself with hopeful thinking that she has maintained this one thin thread of communication between us, though this poem adds increasing evidence to that illusion – since I posted a poem that in some respects foreshadowed the one she posted this week. My poem included a video of me wandering a small beach in Jersey City near Liberty State Park, and was intended as a response to even earlier poem about borrowed lives. The poem goes I find no path among these river stones, so I make my own, turning this way then that, side steps that lead me nowhere, then back, my life made up of clumps like these small eddies filled with seaweed and people I need, but never see again when I move ...
Read more