Besides the obvious stuff which I won't bother to mention, two characteristics by which women judge a man are a) his footwear...and b) the contents of his refrigerator. I'll give you a perfect example of the former:
A couple of months ago, I went to my local Citibank branch to open an account with a bonus attached. Despite my deposit in mid-five figures, the first thing the woman who set up my account did was stare dubiously at my footwear. So obvious was her glance that I myself looked down to discover I was wearing the beat-up sneakers I work (or volunteer) in to avoid fucking up my newer ones. Yes, she got over it. But had I been seeking a date with this woman, that first impression would have constituted two strikes - metaphorically speaking.
Similarly, years ago, I overheard a girl I was dating tell her friend "there's nothing in his refrigerator" in a tone that told me I'd better go out and buy some groceries. I didn't go out to buy those groceries because I didn't really care about the girl. But the lesson stuck.
In the covid era, nobody is coming over to inspect my ice box. But if anybody was, they'd open the door and inevitably, something would fall out. That is how full my refrigerator is. And that's how much extra food we get where I feed the homeless.
Just for example, as I left work yesterday, there remained pounds of strawberries which I know will be overripe and rotting by the time we all return on Monday. So I took two pounds of straws home. And I ate a pound yesterday just to make some room for all the barbecued chicken breasts I trucked back to the pad as well. The tray of chicken sitting in the church cooler (from whence I was given the chicken) will be discarded before anybody eats it. That's how much food is available to me as a side benefit of my new employment.
Additionally, I have numerous name brand yogurts, Trader Joe's 5 ingredient dips, cheeses, and chocolates. In short, when I hit the fridge, I don't know what to eat first.
It's also 6:30 AM and even though I don't have to work today, I'm up and at 'em. Twenty five years ago, I'd have just arrived home from driving the night shift out of Abie's taxi garage. Times sure have changed. Not sure if they're better or worse, mind you. But they're different. That's for sure.
In other news (of the personal nature), two Fox News and NY Post reporters interviewed me this week about Jeffrey Epstein pursuant to the 3 hour special Discovery ID which will be running this Sunday night (titled "Who Killed Jeffrey Epstein?")
Of course, I know he killed himself. But conspiracy theorists keep the story alive. It's almost as ridiculous as "Who Killed Kennedy?" But I'm not one to complain. The Fox News piece already ran (only on the internet) and predictably, my quotes are a little off and/or jumbled and combined. Nothing terrible, but still, I'm amazed at how inaccurate reporters can be at times.
The NY Post guy was much more diligent in his quest to get it right. He called back no fewer than three times to clarify and read back quotes. The Post will be featuring a two page spread this Sunday. And a lot (or maybe even most) will center around the reporter's interview with guess who.
While the flurry of activity and prospective opportunity is to my liking, I have a feeling that I've just about squeezed the MCC experience dry. I assume that when prison or escort issues arise, I'll get freelance work with major news outlets. But I think the Epstein thing will be over, and I fully don't ever expect to get a book deal (even though the book is just about written). I'm over it. Nobody buys books anyway. I'm chasing a phantom.
That's it for now. Time for coffee, a shower, a shit, a shave, and a bike ride. Welcome to my incredibly boring life.
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