Day XV

Gooser

     “Na, na na, Ina wat I’m dooning, man. They likes it yo! Ya jest gotta na which one. Ya gotta be coiful who ya picks on!"

     “Well ya facked up t’dee, uh, she don kicked ya assssss…he hee heee!”

     “Yea ya dumb mofo, one day one adem gon has haw ole man, an he gon hoit ya fo weal, stoopido!”

     “Scweu im, man…ditcha see Mickey’s homah last nite, uh!”

     “Yea, man, he missed going outa pahk by det much, man.”

     “Yea I sawed it det, man, he missed by inches.”

     “Yea man, go Yanks!”

     “We gon win it aeee gin diz yeeee, uh dudio!”

     “Yea, Yanks rule!”

     “Hey man, we gots a noo team hea, guys!”

     “Haw haw haw, dem suckahs ova in Queens…they don’t even na how ta plays da game yet, dudio.”

     “Wite on man, even they old man, Casey, don sed so, ya dig.”

     We smoked, and yapped about baseball, and how that girl kicked Gooser's ass the rest of the way.It was four or five long, really long blocks to school on 10th AV and 59th street. So we schlepped along enjoying our smokes, and laughing at Gooser who kept rubbing his head every once in a while.

     “Does it still hoit, uh bwa?” somebody would smile, and ask.

     “He hee heee…haw haw!” and we’d break out all over again, over and over.

    He was sore as all hell, she pummeled his face, his back, his head. He hurt all over. On top of that he was humiliated in front of his peers. It was a longer walk for him, and we all hoped he learned his lesson. I don’t know if he did or not, because he started taking a different route to school. I figured he got tired of us razzing him all the time, and didn't want to run into us or her again.