Been working with a 30-year served ex-Brooklyn cop for the past three weeks. He’s been tasked a side job at the office — as he’s my boss’ hench because he can conceal-wield a piece — and that’s cleaning all the garbage and computers and materials to shred. Throw it away. Organize it to throw away. Tell me how many times he’s moved the same bag from point A to point B to point C to point D to point E to no point at all. Then he hears Meme Vivaldi’s Untitled, and starts telling me about some basement raid he conducted back in the 80s that was like the TECH NOIR club in Terminator. Said there were skate boards and needles and pipes and no condoms. He mentioned there were no condoms. Then started talking about AIDS and it was a real bummer, so I was like, “What do you use to download music now? Because Bandcamp…” and he replied with NYAPSTER. I called him out on lying to me, he took my dolly-cart to New Jersey, I needed it real bad today, and then I just turn up Meme Vivaldi’s Untitledwhenever he’s around because fuck pictures of your dog, u know?
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