I am keeping a safe distance.
I miss my friends and coworkers.
I am Cone Alone.
Category Archives: Work
Zamphony
Reply
I bet you think you’re so slick.
Hop into the driver’s seat and let’s race.
I’ll clean your clock.
I am Cone Alone.
Mop to it
You didn’t bring a mop?
Oh no. I know what you’re thinking.
Do I look like a cleaning device?
I am not putting my head in that nasty water.
I am Cone Alone.
Road rues
“Come out west,” they said. That’s where the action is. “We’ve got plenty of jobs out here,” they promised.
Well, I ain’t seen shit.
I can’t believe I left the city for this.
I am feeling deserted.
I am Cone Alone.
Baffling scaffold
Who knew this would be so heavy?
I mean, is it even really safe for me to be holding this by myself?
Hey buddy. Hey. Hey!
Nothing?
I guess I can’t really ever trust anyone to help. I can only rely on myself.
I am not even getting overtime.
I am Cone Alone.
Unheeded
“Piso mojado,” dude.
I totally told you: “Piso mojado.”
“Piso mojado.”
I tried to warn you, but it seems
I am Cone Alone.
Policed to meet you
Fuzz.
Pig.
Fascist.
I’ve had all the derogatory sobriquets slung at me.
But I keep walking the beat.
And I keep running into some of the worst society has to offer.
“Hey. Just what do you think you’re doing here?”
“Yeah, you. This area is for authorized personnel only. I can’t have you just hanging around. Sorry, but you’ll need to move on.”
“Wait. Who’s that over there? You’re just not gonna make this easy are you?”
I never wanted to be a detective. I never wanted to be a chief.
I just wanted respect.
I am Cone Alone.
Meter made
I had not seen these guys in years. I remember the first time I heard Look-Ka Py Py. I never had an interest in playing bass guitar until then. As soon as I heard them, all the licks stood out to me like a shamrock in a field of roses.
That was then.
I haven’t picked up a bass guitar in, well, longer than I can remember. When I heard they were playing again, I just had to go see them.
As I stood in the crowd, I looked around. Surrounding me were cones clearly into the music, into the sound and grooving to the funk. Me? I was in a funk of my own. How could I have come so far from my love of music? Why was I working 50 hours a week at an unfulfilling job?
I wish the slap of the bass would slap me awake.
I am Cone Alone.
Pulling my weight
Thanks so much for the help you lazy-ass cone. No, really. I’ll just pull this post by myself. Don’t worry about me at all.
My life is such a drag.
I am Cone Alone.
Cone Alone 