Anderson Cooper was on 30th Street in Manhattan last Monday. I passed the CNN celebrity while working as a messenger. He was easy to recognize because he was wearing the black rimmed glasses that both he and Wolf Blitzer have made a current trend.
“Anderson Cooper?” I asked the moment he walked by. The street was empty. I was carrying a huge shipment of payroll quarterly taxes that needed to be delivered to businesses in the Rockefeller Plaza area before 5pm.
I had little time to be star-struck, but I wanted to be sure it was Anderson. I was wearing what has become my trademark as a messenger; a canvas newspaper carrier bag, one used while a paperboy in Three Springs, PA. Anderson seemed somewhat preoccupied by another world matter, yet he did take the time to respond, “Yes,” but he kept walking before I could give my opinion on the pending government shutdown.
“That’s the last time I watch that little queen,” I whispered to myself like a madman as I rushed up 6th Avenue. “From now on, it’s going to be Fox News at my place in Union City.”
Anderson was not the biggest star I ran into this week. While not a foot messenger, I serve as the porter for the large apartment complex where I reside in NJ. I don’t mind taking out the trash three times a week, nor sweeping ten hallway floors and matching stairways once a week, but what really gets on my nerves while working as a porter are the flyers that the mayor of Union City has distributed on a weekly basis. Rather than pay postage to the US Postal Service, Mayor Brian P. Stack of Union City pays what appears to be undocumented south of the boarder immigrants to shove those shiny, cardboard-stock newsletters under my door and throughout the entire building, usually moments after I finish sweeping for the week.
Several weeks ago, undocumented campaign workers knocked upon my door, informing me that they were there on behalf of Mayor Brian P. Stack. “I don’t have the time,” I said before slamming my door. “I can’t stand Brian P. Stack and those flyers he spreads everywhere. I’m going to vote for whomever is running against the litterer.”
The Mexicans smiled as I shut my door and turned the dead-bolt lock.
Yesterday afternoon while sleeping and dreaming a dream that was inspired by the voice of my new favorite gay anchor at CNN, Don Lemonhead, there was a loud knock at my door.
Not in a happy mood due to two 24 oz cans of Budweiser consumed earlier that day, I didn’t bother to turn on the lights. Only a blue glow, like that of Anderson Cooper, came out my fish tank and filled the room. A huge goldfish seemed to do a flip in the tank the moment I opened my door—
“Hi, I’m Mayor Brian Stack. I hear you are not satisfied living here in Union City.
“I did not say that,” I replied.
“Well, does someone else live here?” The mayor asked.
Rather than introduce the Mayor who governs over the illegal immigrants here in Union City to my black lover who still was sleeping, I decided to give him a look that implied, that’s none of your fucking business, Mr. Mayor. It was then I remembered the current campaign signs hanging all over Union City—in every store it seems, and in many windows of private homes where those loyal to the mayor live—signs that remind all voters to vote in Column 2A on November 5th. The mayor was there on a campaign visit, and because of what I had said to his campaign workers, he was there to get to the bottom of the problem and perhaps secure my vote.
“I don’t have any problems with the way you run Union City,” I replied, “but you hand out too many fliers,” I calmly replied, wiping sleep from my eyes.
“Well, here’s my card. Call if you have any problems.”
I quickly filed the business card in the trash and returned to my nap, where this time, it was Candy Crowley waiting for her quarterly tax statement in a penthouse at Rockefeller Center.