It was surprising to discover that even on Sunday mornings, Pennsylvania Station was still quite busy.

I sat on the cool tiled floor of the waiting area, leaning against a column, and staring at the bronze stairs leading down to Track 18. Four Port Authority Police officers stood in a huddle drinking coffee having a whole-hearted conversation. People hurried down the long corridor that ran deep underneath 34th Street connecting the 7th Avenue end of the gargantuous terminal to the 8th Avenue end. Even deeper below lay the dozens of railroads that led from here out into Long Island and the rest of the country and continent.

Here a person could purchase a ticket and pretty much go anywhere in the western hemisphere. Some people where just going to work. This is a Queens-bound E train to Jamaica Center. Next stop will be: Times Square. Some where traveling to far off destinations to visit loved ones. Amtrak Train Number 7652 to Chicago now departing Track 41. Some were off to a day of relaxation in the Garden State. The 7:14 NJ Transit train to Trenton is now boarding on Track 9. I was heading home from a long night in the city. The 7:29 train to Long Beach will be arriving on Track 18.

I had just spent my last five dollars on my ticket and I was starving. I checked my pockets and rounded up 70 cents. I looked at down the corridor at the various kiosks and tried to figure out what I could get for 70 cents. A Dunkin' Donuts glimmered in the distance.

I arose and made my way down there only to discover that somehow, donuts sold for $1.15 in Manhattan. Since when?! I knew it hadn't been that long since I last visited a Dunkin' Donuts, and I could recall that donuts had been in the 60 cent range. This was an almost 100% markup! I was bewildered.

I retreated to my column and sat down defeated. I cursed the cigarettes in my pocket. I could have had an extra seven dollars.

Ahead I saw a row of payphones. There had to be at least 100 phones scattered throughout the terminal. I checked about 15. No change to be found. I checked the ticket vending machines. Nothing. I scanned the ground for dropped change. Zilch.

Back to my column again. I still had at least 20 minutes before my train left. I fell asleep aginst the column and dreamt of her.

I was startled by a sudden trembling which was none other that a massive horde of people coming up the bronze stairs. I leapt to my feet and glanced at the large digital clock over the ticket booths. 7:28 AM. I had to hurry; my train would leave in one minute.

Once on the train I stared out the window. A young mexican woman selling imitation light up roses was strolling on the platform. I remembered her, and thought of how ironic it was that the Karaoke Lounge had been named Planet Rose. I knocked out again in the burgundy leather seat of the train and leaned my head against the strong plexiglass.

I awoke minutes before arriving at Lynbrook. I unboarded the train and as it pulled away from the platform, I saw a White Castle across the street. My 70 cents were about to get used.

God Bless White Castle and it's 65-cent burgers.

It was about a quarter to nine on Saturday night. I climbed the worn and dirty steps leading out of the Second Avenue Subway station onto Houston Street. The rain wasn't coming down too hard, but still it was enough to warrant an umbrella.

I turned the corner on First Avenue and headed north towards Sixth Street. I don't like the rain much, but even the rain could not put a damper on my night out in Manhattan. I love being in Manhattan, something about the hustle and bustle, the magnitude of it all, the diversity... I love it.

I was to meet up with Melissa, Cheryl, and the cast from "Aloha, Say All The Pretty Girls" at an Indian Restaurant between 5th and 6th. There were three restaurants literally on top of each other. Which one could it be?

A short Indian man in a suit an tie wearing a grey cabbie hat approached me and insisted I enter the restaurant named Royal. After politely informing him that I was waiting to rendez-vous with some friends of mine, he persisted to insist, and I found myself having to resist introducing him to my fist. I walked a few feet away and recognized Melanie, one of Melissa's friends approaching. She was was looking around for a familiar face, and pulling her cell phone out of her purse.

She did not recognize me, even though we had met the week before at the Yaffa Café on St. Mark's Street. It was at there at Yaffa that I had met one of the sweetest, kindest, and down-to-earth girls just a week before. Melanie was a very nice girl as well, and apparently not as skanky as the character she had portrayed in the production.

"No one is here yet," I said as I took a few steps toward her.

She looked at me with confusion and replied, "Who's not here yet?"

I smiled because I knew she was wondering who the hell I was. "The Cast."

It was like speaking the magic word because her whole demeanor changed and she shifted her weight from one leg to another, twirled her finger in her hair and asked, "Who are you?"

I smiled again, extended my hand and re-introduced myself. After explaining how we knew each other we found ourselves hiding from the rain under a nearby awning sharing a cigarette as she rehearsed a special thank you for Tami in Afrikaans. Something along the lines of, "Dankie vra organiseer dit..."

Soon afterwards the group had grown to quite a few more but still no Melissa. At first it was odd hanging out with people I barely knew, I felt like such an outsider, but they were so nice and warm to me. Halfway through dinner they had succeeded in making me feel welcome.

After dinner, we all headed out to Planet Rose on Avenue A and 14th Street. The karaoke bar did not have all us excited, but Melanie had somehow convinced everyone that we should go there.

About an hour or so later (when my ears were officially bleeding) is when things started gettin ugly. Well not ugly. It pains me to see my friends engage in self-destructive behavior so I was quite upset when Melissa began begging for a quarter to speak to he-who-shall-remain-nameless. I refused and she got upset and I left the bar and took a walk around the neighborhood.

The cold air felt good against my warm Barcardi-151 fueled flesh. I walked through Tompkins Park and found myself at Plan B. I had only $9 left and I debated whether I should eat something, have another drink, or buy a pack of cigarettes.

I put my lighter back in my pocket as I stepped out of the grocery store on the corner and let out a plume of smoke. Nicotine's a motherfucker, ain't it. I took another drag as I walked by the front of Plan B and said what's up to the door man and he invited me in. The people on line gave the kind of look that said they hated me because I knew someone. Well in this city the only way to be someone is to know someone.

I turned down his offer and headed back towards Avenue A still puffing on my cigarette and only now realizing that I was broke. I shrugged and kept walking, the cool mist hanging in the air wrapping around me.

Melissa was waiting out front, shouting my full name and rolling the R as long as she could. How long had she been looking for me? I walked up to her and stabilized her because I feared she may fall over, the way she was swaying back and forth. She smiled because she had found me and told me eveyone was wondering where I was. I didn't believe her.

Upon going back inside I was proven wrong. Everyone had been looking for me, and they shouted my name in unison as I came back into the lounge. Once again, they had all made me feel like a part of them.

We finally left the Karaoke place and headed back to Kingshead Tavern, which had been the root of all evil the week before (details). Well, not to be outdone by the previous week, Kingshead struck again. This time however I was actually dumbstruck by what I saw. Were they? They Were! Even Melanie was shocked. I wanted to leave. I wanted to leave and not look back.

So I tried. I bolted out the door and I had not taken but two steps before I heard my name called out. It was her... No... not her. I spun around attempting to feign innocence.

"You weren't leaving were you?" Tami asked with a look of concern.

I didn't want to lie. How could I tell her I was running though? How could I explain why? I didn't want to. I couldn't possibly. So I lied.

"No," I told her, "I was just gonna grab something to eat." I thanked God no one knew I was broke.

The rest of the night was tough. I sat on top of a speaker away from everyone and just kept to myself. Melissa had gone home before my whole escape attempt. Here I was alienating myself from the very people who had tried so hard to make me feel welcome. I felt like a fool. I was a fool. A fool with no money, chewing on ice. I chewed my ice until it was all gone. Then I got myself another glass of ice water. I drank it and chewed that ice as well.

As we left that bar once it had closed, she invited to go to the diner with them. I walked along with them, each of us with our cigarettes in hand. Tami walked with Steven, Melanie with Ben (Steven's roomate). I walked alone.

Once again I thought of running, but I did not entertain the idea much. I had more ice water at the diner, since I had "eaten" earlier. I was pleased to learn Steven was broke as well. He had water as well.

Tami kept leaning on me and telling me how smart I was. How much of a good friend I was. Though she may have meant it the words were empty to me after what I had witnessed at the bar. I don't rememeber why, but she told me she loved me. It was a friendly "I love you", of course, but the words pierced me nonetheless. I remembered that there are no roses without thorns. Sometimes beautiful things hurt. Sometimes when you want to pick a rose from the bush you'll get pricked by thorns. Well the prick, I mean thorn was sitting across from me sipping on it's water. The rose leaned against me resting from her long night out.

The rose left and I may never see it again. But the thorn wants to chill he says. Oh well, I guess I'll chill with him. He wasn't a bad guy, he just got the rose I wanted, even if only for a moment. I descended the steps into the subway and headed back home. Tomorrow's a new day. The sun was rising.

20 Years ago....
I was almost 1 year old. It was an age of naïvité. There were no worries in the world...

15 Years ago....
I was 6, in first grade already getting in trouble with my lifetime buddy René. I rememeber how my teacher used to hit us with rulers on our hands if we misbehaved!

10 Years ago....
I visited Colombia for the second time in my life. It was a changing experience that I never quite forgot.

5 Years ago....
I was 16 years old, learning my first bitter-cold lessons of reality. School ws not as easy academically as it had been in the past, and High School brought new drama that I had to learn to cope with.

2-3 Years ago....
I was 19 years old and I had found Jesus. My life was changing, high school was over and real life had begun. I did a few semesters at DeVry and at Nassau.

1 year ago....
I was blinded and did not know it. I was not in school- I couldn't stand computer work anymore, and I was preoccupied with nothing but my girlfriend and my job. I was on the verge of losing my closest friends and possibly alienating my family. I was planning for something that could alter my life forever. I was moving away... across the country... for a girl.

This year....
Thanks to God though I made it back to a home with a family that loved me so much more than I imagined. My friends took me back with barely any incident. I got my job back. I learned the cruel lessons of love, and how it can blind you and lead you away from the things u care about most. Unfortunetly, I walked away from Jesus and haven't found my way back yet. I still don't know why I pulled away. I enrolled in EMT school and finally feel like I am doing something I love. It may not pay as much as computer programming but in the end, it's not all about the money. This job makes a difference.

Yesterday....
I slept until 7 in the evening after staying out late (real late, I got home at 8:30 AM on Sunday) on Saturday night with Melissa and the cast from her show.

Today....
Went to work and then shopped with Cindy on Steinway for my EMT uniform pants.

Tomorrow....
Work and then EMT class.

I was at the bus stop Friday night, leaning against the bus stop pole just staring into the night sky and I asked myself... "What if the bus never comes?"

Well that was after waiting over an hour on a deserted strech of Merrick Road with nothing but the sound of squirrels scurring in the cementary behind me and airplanes flying miles above me. I took a long drag of my cigarette as I contemplated the events of the night before and scanned the street for any sign of an approaching bus. Nothing.

It had been an extremely long night the prior day and I was still upset about the realization I had come to as we drove down Northern Boulevard after leaving Sal's house. Nadine had asked me several times during the ride if I was alright. She had caught me staring blankly out the side window of Fernando's car. It was at White Castle where I made my decision. Armando and René had gone for a walk while we waited on the drive-thru. I had reached my decision and I had to escape from the confines of the stopped car. I reached for the door handle and stepped into the cool night.

I hadn't meant for anyone to realize what was going through my mind at that moment, especially not my present company. It wasn't a trust nor pride issue, because crying in public doesn't put any dents in my manhood. It was more because they just didn't and couldn't understand my family history and the parallels between Armando and my older brother. The tears slowly inching over my cheeks had given it all away though.

My brother and Armando are both artists. And damned good ones. Neither one of them excelled in school, nor did they care to. They both have deep interpersonal issues with their fathers, and they both seem to have a recurring problem finding, much less maintaing a job. That's point along the path that Armando is at now; but I know it leads into a much darker world. One of drug abuse, suicide attempts, drunken violence, self-hate, hermitism, and only God knows what other perils. Some of these he has already encountered. Some he has not.

All though my childhood I had watched idly as my brother slowly dug himself into his own grave. I was too young to do anything about it back then or to even realize something was wrong. Well the decision that I had come to sitting in the queue at the White Castle drive-thru was that I was not going to do it again. I was not going to watch it happen all over again.

I walked up that drive-thru and found Cindy leaning on a short blue fence that lined the outside of the White Castle. She saw the distress on my face and I told her what I had realized. She agreed. A loud thump interrupted our thoughts and we both peered in throught the large window of the restaurant. Armando had fallen down against the wall near the bathroom. They were behind the locked door that could only be opened using a buzzer from behind the counter. René and Tommy tried to lift him together.

He was struggling and I wanted to help them, but once again I was unable to. I was seperated from him by the locked door and I felt four years old all over again, unable to help. All I could do was watch once more. I banged my fists against the glass and leaned my head against it in defeat.

The rest of the night was difficult for me, and I got home close to seven in the morning after taking care of Armando in a Waldbaums parking lot, that in his drunken stupor he mistook for a supermarket in Southbridge.

It was a very emotional time for all of us. Or maybe not all of us. According to some people, "That's life." Well I've seen where that "life" leads, and I know it can be avoided with caring support, guidance, advice and compassion. Some of my friends are with me on this intervention and I know some could care less but wouldn't want to come across as apathetic. That's fine with me; I know not everyone feels as strongly as I do about this issue.

A bus headed to Freeport pulled up across the street. It was the fifth one going in the opposite direction. I really began to wonder if the bus was ever coming. Finally after about another 15 minutes my bus arrived.

I flagged it down and climbed aboard, MetroCard in hand. The bus was packed. I wonderd if these people had been standing at some bus stop also wondering if the bus would ever come.

Later that night I found myself with Armando after borrowing Fernando's car to go pick him up. He told me how hard it was to care about people when he didn't even love himself. I saw the pain in his face. He told me how he didn't understand why we cared about him so much. How could we care for him when he's done nothing to earn it. How he felt like he owed us something. And how he thought we'd be better off without him.

My mind raced back to verses I had read in the Bible. About how God loved us unconditionally, even through all our sins. I rememebered what love was. What true love was, and how love was not something that could be earned. I told him, and I told him we care because we love him. And that he didn't need to do anything in return to keep our love and care. We didn't expect nothing in return. At least I don't.

The whole situation reminded me of how important it is to have a loving parental figure. We all expect love from parents. It's only natural... and we don't receive this natural love it can wreck havoc on a person. But God is always there... that's why we call him Father, right? Because he will love us with that unconditional love we all so desperately need. All we need to do is look to him. And I've turned my back for so long.... but that's another issue for me to resolve. He's reaching out to me to come back... maybe I still have some lessons to learn before I stop being so rebellious. Maybe I won't learn until I'm broken down all the way. Maybe it's starting already...

My mother has cancer. The results came in on Thursday.

Alright so it's been a few weeks since my last post, so it's time for the update.

Let's begin by saying that the friggin Red Sox won. Everyone knows by now, but it still sucks. Cindy was pretty bummed out and so was I. However, I have to give credit where credit is due, and the BoSox played a hell of a series. The "curse" is broken so there's no excuse when the Yankees whoop Boston next year.

Halloween was off the freakin' hook. Cindy and I ran Last Call for all it was worth on Saturday night. We turned it into a sick nightclub. Some sorority girls came in and they were absolutely the life of the party. We had then dancing on tables, and grinding all over the place. The costume contest went extremely well and the results pleased everyone present. The whole day was going fine but never can a night go off without a hitch. There was some drama with Fern around 4 AM which has since been forgotten so no need to go into details.

Sunday night was slow at last Call, however the crowd from the night before and then some came back and begged us to DJ. Look like we're in demand now! Yeah kid! However Fern came in as we were DJing and he seemed pissed cuz we were working without him. We cleared it up as well, but I guess it did look wrong.

On Monday, Tommy, Armando, and I went to Greenpoint to an on-location shooting of Third Watch and watched them film some scenes. Met up with Cindy and then off to Borough park for my job interview. I got hired by rhese Hacidic(sp?) Jews who are the new owners of Economy and I start this Monday at their offices in Brooklyn on 46th Street. I haven't even started and I hate it already. I just don't love computer work anymore. My passion is DJing and a hands-on kind of job. I cannot wait until I'm an EMT. The pay won't be so hot, but it'll be something I love... and that's what matters.

We took Tommy to his job interview at Sears and then off to the old Economy warehouse to do some work on some lighting. We ended up having a small birthday party for Fern in the empty warehouse with Cindy, Armando, Tommy, Chris, Nadine, Vanessa, Eddie and Jackie. That was pretty fun. We did not go home until 4 AM. Lol. Tommy cut his finger pretty bad and I got to practing my bleeding control and bandaging skills. Hee hee.

Bush won on Tuesday! Thank God. Many don't agree with me for supporting him, but I stand with the majority and the polls prove that. So I WASN'T the only one. LOL. At least the constant political arguements will be over. Eh.... No they won't... I know my friends too well. Oh well.

Took Nadine to the Bronx earlier that day so she could pick up some materials she needed from this architect she's working with. That was a fun lil road trip. LOL. I hate The Bronx.

So Trisha tells me on Wednesday that she really wants to have an affair... Cindy and just looked at each other like WTF? Then she invites me to Avalon on Saturday and says, "My husband is probably not gonna come..." That girl always comes outta left field with her shit. The next day she's showing me pictures of what she's gonna wear to the club and reminding her that she loves to drink Johnny Walker and have sex.... OK.... Nutty bitch. She thought Nadine was my girl... that was hilarious cuz Nadine and I just looked at each other like... Yeah sure...OK. Whatever.

Headed out to The Skinny, which is right across the street from where Kush used to be. Kimm works there now and we had a lot of fu. Chris and Vanessa ended hooked up together, and Fern showed up with Carlos. He's so gay, but he doesn't make me uncomfortable anymore. He kept massaging my back though ::shiver:: LOL. Vanessa kissed Cindy on the lips and took body shots off of Chris and Fern.

Tonight was fun. Nadine brought her friend Ana out. It's been a very long time since I fell for a girl like I did tonight. I mean, I like Tatiana, I've met girls, but tonight I felt like a cartoon with hearts for eyes. Nadine caught on and I sure she thought it was hilarious. Too fucking bad that Ana has a man. Damn! Oh well. Ana and I got wasted and then we went to Georgia diner (what else is new?). Fern drove my car cuz I was way gone tonight. We had an ok night at Last Call.

Tomorrow we were gonna go dancing (Avalon, rememeber?) but we got hired to work at Last Call for a Sorority/Fraternity mixer. I've got a feeling it's gonna be like last Saturday and those sorority girls will be there. If so, we are gonna tear that place up. It's me and Fern in the booth tomorrow though, so it will be a bit different but we'll do well. Cindy's working the door.

I have to work with the Jews on Sunday. That's gonna be tough after DJing tomorrow night. Sigh. I also ahve to work at Shelter rock in the afternoon Sunday, I may even have to DJ at Plan B as well. Ughhhh. The things I do to get cash in my pocket.

OK I think that's all the updating for now. Oh, by the way, I am now an American Heart Association Certified Instructor for CPR and First Aid. So if anyone needs to learn CPR for work or something, let me know, I can teach u the class at a good price.

Wow the Sun is coming up.... ok better get in my coffin before I turn to ash. I've become such a night owl that I hardly ever see the sun anymore.... It's gonna be so hard working for the Jews in Brooklyn.

Good night, Doc Out.