Day XXX

Beggars and thieves

     I remember her because I used to carry her groceries up from time to time, and she was cool with me. This was a time when many stupid idiots started experimenting, as they liked to say, with heroin. So many got hooked. I remember seeing them begging on street corners all the time. They stood there oscillating, back and forth, their eyes half opened, as they scratched their faces. Where guys once sang a capella, they now begged a fella. They reached out as you passed by, sticking their hand out, and begged,

     “Yo, yo yo ya got a kotah, man…a dime, uh?”

     If you gave them anything, they would make it a habit every time they saw you, and that seemed to be every freaking day. If you didn’t give them anything, they would curse you out.

     “Ya cheap modafackah!”

     Sometimes some got thrashed, and they soon learned real quick from whom to beg, whom to harass, and whom to leave alone. Those were the non violent guys, they would rather beg than mug people. Joe sad to say, wasn’t one of those, he had much too much pride to beg. So he became a second story man, a thief, to get his fix.

     Ours was a blue collar working man’s nabe. I lived in a five story building that was one of a row of buildings on Brook Av, from 149th street to 150th street. It was a very long block from Brook Av to St Ann’s Avenue, I dare say at least an eighth of a mile. Anyway, the fire escapes were all in the back, and any noise made back there echoed out.