Day XXXlII

The King

     I had just cleaned out my locker at school; it was a nice sunny day, and I was enjoying a smoke; strolling down Broadway; wondering what to do with myself. I remember, it was around fifty something street, when I ran into him. He was walking uptown when I saw him, and I couldn’t help myself, when suddenly I heard myself yell:

     “Tito!”

   He stopped, looked at me, then shook my hand, and said,

     “Hiya doing my man?”

     “I’m a ite, man,” I smiled

     Then he tells me: “Ya na, man,” Pointing to my smoke, “That’s no good for ya! You should cut that out.”

     “I’m trying to, but it’s so hard you know!”

     “Don’t try man, just do it, ya dig!”

     He blew my mind, Tito Puente, I met him once before, when I was working at that club in the Bronx. But, I never thought he would remember me. When he had gigs there, his band came up, and practiced before the gig. He laughed when I was scolded once for sitting at a table to listen to them pratice.

      “Yo kid diz ain’t no concert, man,” Blacky yelled at me.

      “So how ya doing?” he asked bringing me back to the present.

      “I just graduated from high school, man, and I’m looking for a job.”

      “Oh yea, what school?”

      “Haaren!”

      “Hey, I went there too, man!”

      “Man, the job situation is tough, there’s no work to be found.”

      “I served in the Navy, you know…three years, man. It ain’t a bad thing. You should think about it!”

     “Okay, Tito.”