“Da was this big thud!” She smiled, and continued, pointing to window: "He left his fingahs ova da!"
When the cops checked, his fingers were still nailed to
the sill. Back then there were no such miracles where by doctors could reattach body parts. Joe lost four fingers, and all that remained was part of his palm,
and his left thumb. Lucky for him, he was a righty. Since it was self defense,
Donnya Ana was never charged. But Joe went away for a few years, and when he came
back, his new monicker was Joe Finger.
I still remember he had a funny way of
lighting up. He kind of held the match book, with his thumb, and palm, then with his good hand he struck the match against the matchbook. Even in a strong wind he
managed to light up. It’s amazing how need overcomes just about anything. In jail
he overcame his heroin habit, he also acquired a little education, and landed a
job counseling junkies when he got out.
Sometime during my senior year I started smoking a
pipe. Man, I thought I was so cool. I’m Latin,Boricua, and back then Latin in New
York City meant either Cuban, or Puerto Rican. Hip cats dressed up, and went to Salsa, clubs, where chicks were aplenty, and loved to dance. Everybody dressed up
really cool, no silly thuggish nonsense back then. No cats with their pants
hanging below their ass, showing off their dirty underwear. No man! No jacket and
tie, you didn’t get in to the clubs. Anyway, the ladies looked down on cats who
weren’t sharp. It was like the Gillette commercials, look sharp, be sharp, and
everybody tried to out do one another.
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