in the evening...

trolling for inspiration last evening...

i was feeling pretty caged yesterday in the midst of a wonderful fall like day and decided to take a walk. All jacked up and nowhere to go. There are days when the creative energy is flowing without end, but untapped, it needs to escape, so i took it to the streets...

while walking Yellowstone Blvd, taking a look at the place i would have bartended at if Gordon Ramsey had not made it a nightmare, i was greeted by an email by the Cat Mom, detailing her day to come—she is a night kitten and also three hours behind us here on the right coast. She also relayed the revelation of a sex dream with bonus dead husband—baby steps my dear...

that got me inside of a a russian mob front/coffee shop to write a short playing off an apparition and the foiling of a perfectly good fantasy. Inspiration is an odd thing. Satisfied in a job well done—the story is not yet finished but well on its way, i did some window shopping for books on sailing while on my way to picking up a falafel on 71st. The Israeli joint was closed due to sabbath so i went to the middle eastern cart by my bank. Out of falafel! Peace due to Allah and all but what the fuck, man? Gas face given, i went on my way to meet the Judge over by Kaufman Studios to check out a new beer garden. Still hungry and itching to continue my reading of A Prayer For Owen Meaney i took a seat at a Cuban place on Steinway for a couple of sub par empanadas, the -nada apparently stands for not enough beef. Oh well, on to Studio Circle...

down the block from Kaufman stands a four story building that houses amongst other things and an open-air beer garden atrium-style tucked inside a corporate veneer. It had big beers at a good price and although at times it seemed very crowded i never did feel all that sussed. Bonus individual restrooms gives the bathroom area the feel of a changing area at a department store, it was a nice touch—the Judge commented that it was a class joint. He and his cousins were meeting. i met them all between the haze of the Judges bachelor and matrimonial nuptials. Normally they would meet at another garden not too far away, apparently Astoria has cornered this market. The Judge said they decided to change the venue since that particular joint got zagat rated and became bourgeois in hurry afterwards. Word of advice for the Studio Circle, keep up the good work and keep the ego in the sink where it belongs...

after three large Sam Oktoberfests i drew the line and made way back to my domicile, satisfied that something productive was accomplished. If nothing else a good time was had by all...

that's all you can ask for when you're trolling for inspiration in the evening...