Day CLXXlV

Alexima

     I was trying to quit, and had gone from like two, two and a half packs a day, to about a half a pack. In my travels I met a sweet old lady who had a sort of an inactive factory. Alexima, a talented seamstress, was in her early seventies and still putting in a long day. Alex could make almost anything, but at the time she was making ends meet by producing plastic furniture covers. She had a huge store, with several unused sewing machines, and a few mannequins with worn samples of her work in the window. I showed her my tops, she looked me in the eye, and said:

     “Kid, I can make this crap in my sleep...so why should I buy from you?”

     “Really!” I smiled.

     “Oy!” She cried as she raised her arms above her head, and continued,

     "Young man, I’ve been in diz business since before ya wuz a gleam in ya fada’s ois.”

     Of course she didn’t buy, but a few days later, I returned with a way cool proposition, and we went into business together. She taught me the game; how, and where to buy fabric; get patterns sized; how to lay the fabric, and cut it. True! At one time I was doing all of those things, and selling and delivering. We were a small operation with about ten girls doing the sewing. I remember I put in long freaking hours, and my smoking went back up to two packs. I really don’t know how I smoked so much, because I was also doing a lot of walking. Methinks I must have walked all over the city at the time. I walked, took the subway or bus everywhere. I went all over except Staten Island. The city’s a big place, it’s 365 acres.