Yo, college boy. What the hell are you doing around here? Lookin all serious, in your clean cloths and haircut. I’ll bet you even smell good, brushed your teeth and all. Sometimes I notice how rotten it smells around here. I’ll bet you smell like flowers, or soap, or bacon and eggs. Could you come a little closer, so I can get a whiff. No, OK. Have it your way. I always liked to keep some distance too. Say, about that bacon and eggs. Did you have toast and strawberry jelly? I always liked a piece of coconut cream pie with breakfast.
Dave’s, huh? Never heard of it. Maybe one day we could share some haute cuisine at your favorite bistro. Enjoy the fruits of our labors. Bond over quiche.
Yah, I had a fine breakfast. I ate what people like you throw away. Have you ever dined at the Dumpster Bistro? No, some time you must allow me to treat you to a meal. We can bring our ladies and have the daily special. You know the menu is different every day.
You can wipe that smirk off your face. Food is food and we both have to eat. Just because some sucker of a waitress refilled your coffee cup doesn’t make you better than me. She whored herself for a fifty cent tip. Does that make you feel like a big dick?
You make me sick to my stomach. All you yuppies make me vomit. You should spend some time in this torture chamber. I can tell, you need an education. Not just an education, a real education. The kind money can’t buy.
So, that’s how its going to be. Keep your condescending bullshit smile to yourself and we can talk.
So your paper wants you to write about the homeless. Well, you came to the wrong place. What makes you think I am homeless? I have a pad right behind me, below that railroad bridge. Would you and your lady like to drop by for an aperitif? Perhaps canapés and Pinot Grigio?
Pile some cardboard boxes on top of each other and you have a poor man’s Serta. You have no idea how comfortable my bed is. The bonus is, when the top piece gets worn, all you have to do is switch it with a middle piece. There you go, a brand ass new bed. How much money did you waste on your fancy bed? How old is your mattress? I get a new one after a good rain.
Look pretty boy, if you wanna write about me you gotta pay. I don’t work much, but when I do, I don’t work for free.
That will be just fine. Just make sure it’s all in singles. I like to carry big wad in my back pocket. Kinda balances things off what I got in my front pocket.
No need to get huffy. Just a little joke among us guys. Cut a poor workingman a little slack. I’ll watch my mouth.
So look, I’m around here almost every morning, unless I have an executive conference. I wonder if this area smells bad to anyone else. It’s something you just don’t get used to.
Sometimes I’m not so good the morning after. You gotta back off and leave me alone. We can’t talk when I am sick. One time I went to the mission clinic when I was sick. They told me to go the hospital and have my stomach pumped. Could you believe it? I can puke on command. Why the hell would I go to the hospital? Home medication is always the best medication. I just walked out to the street and let ‘er fly. Those fancy doctors could learn a lot from me.
I ain’t got no time for any hospital. Service stinks, even if you have Blue Cross. Unfortunately, my policy has elapsed. I got things to do and responsibilities. I got property to protect. If somebody moves into my territory we argue, then we fight, and then the cops beat the crap out of us. Ever been beaten up? No? Not so bad. Beats the hell out of the cure.
You heal fast, you heal slowly. What’s the difference? Time has no meaning.
Ever shake for two days? Believe me those do gooders are no friends of mine. When you dry something out it crumbles.
Yah, I know they are trying to help.
My ass. If they really wanted to help, they would open a free saloon. Hookers, gambling, the whole nine yards. Now, that would be a contribution to the community. Give us a good reason to get up in the morning.
OK, I will answer your questions. First, let’s see the color of your money.
You could give me all of it now. I won’t rip you off. At one time I was the employee of the month. OK, I’ll time you with my Rolex. When the time is up, you pay.
My name? You can call me D.M. What the hell is the difference if that’s my real name or not? That is all you need to know. If you need more information check with the CIA. Maybe they will declassify my file. You know national security is important these days.
All right, OK, don’t push me, I’m very sensitive. You think I’m here because I’m a psycho or down on my luck?
First things first. No, I have never been in a nut house. Look if you keep interrupting me this interview is over.
Honest, sure, hasn’t everybody been in the slammer? At least everybody I know has been locked up. In fact, everybody I know, and everybody in this hood has been incarcerated.
Do you like that word? I am the master of a great deal of impressive vocabulary. It comes in handy at corporate meetings. Hank Ford gets jealous when I use big words. Maybe that’s why he dodges me.
As far as my luck is concerned. Why assume that luck took a crap on my head? Did you ever think that I maybe I am up on my luck?
I thought so.
You punch a clock and swing from the meat. Who do I answer to? Who chews me out? I live something you only dream about. I know freedom. What the hell do you know?
Would I rather be you? Depends. What does your old lady look like? Let’s talk for a while about her talents. Does she like men with an aura of mystery about them? How about a big wad?
OK, OK, I’ll let it go. What next? Yah, you love your wife. I once had one of those. I also had a Pinto. Wouldn’t have either of them again. Both had high mileage and rust when I got them. Maybe a model with less mileage would have been more dependable.
I’ll tell you why.
Say, have you got anything to drin?. A glass of white wine would be appropriate refreshment. I would look kindly upon your donation of a bottle next time we meet. Call it an added incentive. Perhaps a bonus for work well done.
Gimme my money and perhaps we can talk tomorrow.
2
Yah, I couldn’t make it yesterday. Sorry you made the trip down here for nothing. Did you do some shopping a block over? They have a nice assortment of drugs at reasonable prices. You have a choice of some of the finest vintage wines in the world. A large selection of rotgut at Ted’s beer and wine. And the broads, can’t beat them with a stick. Somebody already did.
Not interested huh, how about a lottery ticket? Your passport to wealth and happiness. I could share my expertise with you. Drugs, alcohol or luck?
Not interested. Well, maybe you will change your mind. When you get my age your outlook may change. “What’s bad is good, and what’s good is bad.” Things just hafta shake out. You will have a different angle, mark my words. Just give yourself some time, and time will give you a kick in the balls.
So, you want to start with my background? We can start with my mother and father. They are still dead. Natural causes. Rest easy, I didn’t murder either one of them.
They were all right. I think the best day in their lives was when I went to college. They were into themselves. Getting me out of the house was their ticket to the good life. All they did was throw a few bucks at the system. They no longer had to deal with my shit. My shit was my shit. It was far away from them. When I moved into the dorm they turned my room into a den. The sign was clear as water. You don’t live here any more.
I hated school. School-school-school. Clowns talking at you and testing you. Talk and test, test and talk day after day.
Eastern University. Three years of drinking and drugs.
Sure I dropped out. Actually I was asked to leave.
Yah, academic ineligibility. Fancy words for flunked out.
If it weren’t for going to class it would have been excellent. I always told the chicks that I was pre- law. You’re half way in their pants when they think your gonna make big bucks.
How many? Plenty. The best was Susan. She wanted to get married. Could you imagine a beautiful woman married to me? I could get larger pieces of cardboard and make a king size bed. We could vacation on the French Riviera and ski in the Alps.
Say, did you bring a bottle? All this yakking has dried me out.
Oh yah, some cash up front. Straight business.
Just like I like it, all singles.
The last payment is gone. What do I look like, The Bank of England?
That’s my business. What the hell did you do with your last paycheck Mr. Ivy League?
Oh, Theee University of Michigan. Perhaps I should call you Brain Boy, from now on.
Well, call me impressed and molest my momma.
How many times did you get laid in college?
OK, back to me.
So, she wanted a ring and I wanted to play video games, get high, and pork. Looking back, she took the best care of D.M.’s old love pole.
Screw you, I can cry if I like. That was one girl worth crying for. If I weren’t so unlucky I would be married to her today. We would have a place in the suburbs and kids. Her ass would be as wide as a Buick and I would be lookin to screw the baby sitter.
I gotta pee. Be back in a few. I’m lookin for a place with a bidet.
I feel a lot better. The old bladder ain’t what it used to be. You know in the large scheme of things it makes no difference if you pee on yourself. All that matters is that you make room for more juice.
No, you can’t drink too much.
Yah, video games and a buzz. Believe it or not I had quite a body in those days. I weighed l90 pounds back then. You know I thought that body would last for ever. I guess everything eventually turns to shit.
You know, even if this old body is on its last leg, it’s my leg.
Racquetball, twice a week. I figured it balanced off the drinking and smoking. You know in those days I smoked two packs of Camels a day. Now I smoke what is on the ground, sometimes with lipstick on the butt. Talk about lungs. I thought they would last forever too. Now I only got one of them damn things. Oh well, one will get me by.
Say, lets play racquetball or squash some time. Call my secretary and she can squeeze you in. Hank will have to wait his turn.
I have not seen her in fifteen years. I see her face in the night sky. It takes a bottle or two to chase the stars away.
Now you got me thinking about booze and the sky.
Go away!
3
Well, well Mr. College Boy. Would you wear that blue and green tie you wore, was it yesterday? I liked it very much. Perhaps when you are finished with it you may like to donate it to the D.M. relief fund. You probably could use the tax write-off and a man cannot have too large of a wardrobe. I don’t even care if it’s not a designer tie.
You show a little generosity and everybody is a winner.
I’m feeling pretty good today. What would you like to talk about?
I once had a job in the automotive industry, a long time ago. The machine and I were best pals. We held hands like best friends. Well, not exactly hands, but close.
We worked side by side in harmony. The machine and I were waiting for a chance to stab the other in the back.
“It’s the machines fault,” was my motto. The machine never denied its guilt. But, I couldn’t win. The machine had my number. It stayed up night’s thinks about ways to hurt me or at least make me look impotent. Wrong word. I mean incompetent. If I ever find some dynamite I swear I will blow up some machine.
Yah, I really hated that job. Come to think of it I hate all work. Although, this job ain’t too bad.
No, I never got used to it. I hated every day I went to that factory. After a while I just hated everything. That’s when I dove into the sauce. Drugs and alcohol were my only friends. At least the only friends I knew I could count on. It’s strange that people just change their minds. They’re your pals, then they’re your friends, and then they are strangers you used to know. None of those bastards have come to visit me at my new abode. You would think someone would at least send me a Christmas card. Maybe it’s better to be forgotten.
Well, back to the days of drugs and booze. Days and years seemed to blend into each other. When things went rotten is beyond me. Maybe they were always rotten and I just didn’t notice.
Oh, maybe ten years, then my wife died. You know, I never cried for her, not even today. I don’t know why. I can’t remember ever crying. It’s not in my make up. I can take it.
No, it’s not that I never loved her. It’s more like I never loved anyone. Thinking back, I don’t believe I have ever loved myself.
I go along tolerating things. Like you tolerate me. The toughest one to tolerate has always been old D.M.
Maybe that’s why I cut my wrists when I was a kid.
Now don’t start me crying, like you did before. I told you I’m very sensitive. And you hit on a nerve.
Sure, just give me a second to get a grip.
When it finally hit me between the eyes that Susan was through with me, it was more than I could take. I felt like my whole system was on overload. The pain was just too much for me to handle.
You know I can take a ton of pain. You could put me on stretching rack and crank the sucker up. I wouldn’t say a word. I would probably spit in your eye and laugh. That’s the easy kind of pain. Sometimes it’s so easy it’s almost fun.
The hurt she put on me was too much.
Down the basement at my folk’s place. They found me crying with blood on the floor and a razor blade in my hand. I should have finished the job. Too bad they cut me off. Now I lost my nerve. If I wanted, I could shave myself and hardly think about the blade. Maybe I have not lost my nerve, just my ambition.
No I can’t remember all that much about it. I recall some of the time in a hospital and a lot of pills. When I left that place I felt like a dishrag. That was a whole lot better feeling then when I went into the hospital.
Say, I’m talking up a storm. Got anything to drink in that bag?
Coffee!
What the hell do you think I am? Some yuppie, latte-drinking homo?
OK, OK, I’ll take your stinking coffee. Oh yah thanks, Mr. Starbuck.
Anyhow, somewhere along the line after the hospital shit, I figured that self-medication was a whole lot better than having your heart torn out the hard way. The hard way is through your asshole.
First it was pot and beer. A six-pack, a joint, and a fat broad were all I wanted or expected in those days.
Because fat broads were easy. I guess they still are.
Now can I go back to work?
Say, next time could you bring me a large coffee?
You know, I gracefully left college and went to work building cars. I guess I have a pension setting somewhere. What the hell? A guaranteed income would probably kill me.
About that time, I met my wife. She was a sexual athlete, when we were dating. She couldn’t wait to get her pants off. I couldn’t wait to help her. It was like a year and a half orgy. We would go at it every night, and mornings on the weekends.
Being young, stupid, and horney I married her. The first couple of years were fun. The longer we were married the closer her knees got together.
By the time the union signed the ‘97 contract I threatened to buy myself a goat. You know, goat’s back legs in the boots.
That was my way of telling her I needed some.
No, I don’t know why she iced up. Maybe that’s the difference between a girl and a woman? I don’t know.
I think it’s because she found another man. I know because I followed her one time.
What I saw was none of your business, you nosey bastard.
That’s it. Give me my money you bitch, or we are through talking.
4
Well, College Boy, how long has it been?
I have been distributing the wealth. You know you can’t count on the politicians to bail out the economy. The workingman has to do his fair share of spending. Me, I up and paid my dues.
I’ll tell you how I am. I’m just fine. Couldn’t be better. I had a fine vintage breakfast, that must have been only a few hours old, and my dick still works.
Yes sir, this morning I’m a rich man.
I mean I feel as good as I felt when I had money. No, better!
Do you hear anybody nagging me? Telling me what to do and how to do it? Telling me how to do things that I know how to do? I can just mosey on down to the park and stretch out in the sun light. A big shot in Aruba and me. Two of a kind, enjoying the hell out of life.
If you give me that coffee I will tell you about my dream.
Good! Just the way I like it. You know, when things go your way the whole world seems to fit. The coffee is just right. Just like a fourteen-year-old hooker.
Well, I think it was after our last meeting. I decided to celebrate your good fortune. I understand that you work for a living, just like me.
You make the big bucks and live the large life. Why not? Get your share I always say. It would be kinda nice if you were a bit more generous. Sometimes the nights get cold. Have you ever shivered all night long? A flannel shirt would keep a body toasty warm.
Maybe not. Things like that you gotta fight for in this neighborhood. A warm shirt would be more trouble than it’s worth.
So, anyways, I went to work on my modern Stone Age artifact.
You wanna see it?
Here, you can hold it if your careful. It’s a pipe made out of garbage and a piece of screen I borrowed. That’s a green been can, for the bowl. Just the right size, for a guy on the go. That hole in the side I punched with a nail. I got a straw at McDonalds. Crumbled up bags from fast food joints have all kinds of treasures in them. I ate the fries and used the straw for a stem. If you ream the hole just right the straw is a perfect fit. Just like that good old fourteen-year-old hooker.
So, you see, I am the sultan of recycle. A man for all seasons. A man before his time. All of you suburban button down collared bastards are out there in a spending frenzy. Throwing your bucks at imported Turkish hooks. While I apply a little brainpower and there it is. A marvel of modern technology combined with the simplicity of the caveman. All from trash. Kinda like me.
Anyhow, I bought a rock and retired to an empty building.
You know, a rock doesn’t last long. But as long as it lasts, it’s a trip to the stars. You become Buddha and Superman, all at the same time. Too bad I didn’t have enough money to buy another hit.
So, I went looking for some brothers who were having a party. I found the boys drinking behind the Chinese restaurant on Congress Street. I passed on the eats and waited for my turn with the bottle. You always gotta show wino etiquette.
Because, if you don’t, one of the brothers will just cut ya.
I have never thought that Chinese food and apple wine was a proper marriage of food and spirits. I passed on the eats and took a long pull of the bottle each time it came around. I tossed in the change I had in my pocket for the next bottle. I kept my mouth shut. No reason to share too much with those guys. Be a man of mystery, and mind your manners with the brothers, I always say.
It was kinda gross when Little Pete took a crap in the ally. The ally had a stink about it. I don’t know if I can blame that on Pete. Maybe it was just a shitty ally. You gotta cut the boys some slack when they contribute to the refreshment fund.
No, I don’t know how much we drank. Although, I do know that we left no wine for the rats. They can eat the lousy Chinese food. Maybe they wound up in the chicken fried rice. Wouldn’t surprise me if they found a place on the menu along with Fluffy and Rover.
Then, I cruised on home and retired for the night. This ghost came to me in a dream. He was clean and smelled like lilacs. In fact, he looked a lot like Richard Nixon. Remember him? The ninetieth president of this here union.
Remember when he died? I told my wife I had to fly out to California for the funeral. I explained to her that I needed to pound a wooden stake through his heart, so he doesn’t get back up.
Pretty good one, huh? I always was the wizard of wit. The prince of puns. The czar of comedy, like Peter the Great meets Curley Howard.
OK, Sorry, back to Richard Nixon, the ghost.
That Bastard was creeping around in the dark looking for trouble. You know about trouble? It’s the easiest thing in the world to find.
So, old Tricky Dick sees this fancy car. All clean and shiny, parked all by itself on this side street of mostly abandoned houses. The fool didn’t bother parking under a streetlight. He just parked it there in the dark.
Old Tricky Dick aims this brick he has been hauling around, and smashes in the side window. You know those crazy new cars. The horn goes off and Dick wets his fruit of the looms.
He rifles the glove box and receives a gift from heaven. Dick finds a vile of smack and all the goodies that make up a “happy meal.”
The ghost disappears with the junk and lies low for a while. No need to advertise a score. The brothers expect you to share.
Good old Dick trades his bounty for six rocks. That equals just a fine time.
Yah, you gotta give him credit. That old boy sure knows how to live.
No stinking Democrats. No cops. No Watergate bullshit.
Yes, sir, a fine ass day. Why don’t you pay me and let a rich man go on his way.
5
I’m sick today. Don’t stare at me. Get lost you little fag.
6
So, Mr. College Boy. Look at you there. Looking all clean and shiny. Checking out the slum. Eyeballing the street for me. Looking for something, and finding nothing.
Well, here I am. Afraid to come over here, into the shadows? A super hero like me, invisible to a shit like you. Amazing what can be done with a plan. At times like this I’m a ghost.
I’ll just sit here in this empty building and watch. I got some chicken and rice. If I had a pot of tea I could be Chairman Mao.
When you get tired of wasting your time, we can cruise on down to the train and find out where you work.
I can take the L to the White House. Nobody sees anything on the train. One time I spent three days on the train. I even slept on the train. Not even the cops saw me. I guess if you pay cash you can be transparent. If it wasn’t for the smell I could spend my whole life just traveling around town.
After work we can find out where you live and get an eyeball full of your lovely wife. My guess is that she is as tight assed as you. Looking down her plastic nose at working citizens like me. I’d like to bash her in the face and tell her to move along. Move along. Not good morning. Not have a nice day. Just move along.
Let’s just see if she has what it takes.
You know all about my life, little man. What the hell. Now I get to learn all about yours. Today, I lose the mega-bucks you toss into the gutter. We go on a road trip and I learn all about my best friend.
This town is just perfect for us international spy types. We use the L and the crowd to accomplish our stealth assignments. Oozing from shadow to shadow without a sound. You can call me the Sherlock Holms of the stinking world.
So, I waited all day to see your crummy apartment building. Not even a doorman. Well, well, well. A ghost would have an easy time getting into that building. He could come and go without a trace. A job that would do the Cheka proud.
All old Dick would have to do is check out the tenant names on the mailboxes. Find out which apartment his old amigo and wife live in, just sit back until dark.
Some homemade tools, a little nerve, and Dick is out of the elements and into the lobby.
A knock on door 2B. A quick entrance, the little tart is the treat of the day.
Now captain, I am in the driver’s seat. You dance to my tune, and it’s the rumba.
Your old lady and you are going out to dinner? Perhaps, out to visit friends?
It doesn’t matter. You make a handsome couple.
I see why you bust your balls. It costs a lot of money to have a woman like that.Back in my days you had to be a doctor or lawyer to get that grade of merchandise. You had to keep the money flowing like water, or she would slide over to the next highest bidder. Whoever said owning a Vette is an easy job. Great ride. But the upkeep is murder.
Good thing a test drive is free.
Yes sir, old buddy, a banquet is about to be served. I am the guest of honor and you are catering the affair.
Champagne for the guest of honor!
7
Good morning to you, young man. If you turn over that coffee, before it gets cold, I will sing like a bird.
I am fine, thank you.
I just walked away from it all. The fingers pointing at me. My friends turned into my acquaintances. Acquaintances forgot my name and face. I’ll bet they didn’t forget who I was when I came to the gossip mill. The whole phony world turned its back on me
Screw them. I leave them a hot turd in the alley every morning.
Because, I screwed up. All right, I’ll tell you the truth.
I copped a ton of money on an insurance scam. Cashed in a life insurance policy. The company did some digging and later claimed it was under fraudulent circumstances. Had to give back the money after I spent a chunk of it. As far as I know the insurance company is still looking for me. Like looking for a ghost.
No, I will not tell you the details. Make them up. Who will know the difference? Just like a master’s thesis or term paper.
I’ll never tell. Loyalty is my strongest trait.
You can bet that I had my fill of that family crap.
Yah, a brother. The worm became an anesthesiologist. You know, he knocks people out. I guess it runs in the family. He does it his way. I do it mine.
No, I don’t knock people out that way. I knock people out with my brains and wit. In fact. I used to have knock out looks. A hard life left me looking like this.
Anyways, he took his fancy degree, wife, kids, and hit the road. Last time I heard he was knocking them dead in Kansas City.
No, I have never been there. It’s not like I have an open invitation. He would probably slam the door in my face. I guess he never cared much for me. Come to think of it. Why would I want to go to the dust bowl when I have all this? I can live on garbage, I can’t live on dust.
Maybe my brother can live on dust. That guy would suck up to the old man. The little shit was the old man’s favorite. He couldn’t get into a spot that the old man couldn’t bail him out.
Paid for his schooling. When his car took a dump, the old man bought him a new one. Can you imagine, a brand ass new car?
When he graduated the old man sent him on a vacation. Three weeks in Mexico. I’ll bet he even got laid.
The closest thing I ever got to a vacation was two weeks at a work camp.
What the hell. He is OK. The old man called him Lefty because he always put on his left shoe first. The old man gives him a cool name and it sticks with him his whole life.
Nobody ever gave me a nickname. I think I will have my associates call me Lucky from now on. Yah, Lucky. Why not? It sounds better than Unlucky.
Ya know, the old man always said I would wind up a bum. Sometimes he would call me Bum. Maybe he could read the future. Maybe he sent me to the torture chamber.
Well, I may be a bum but he is dead. Who is the joke on?
I like the name Lucky. It seems to be a perfect fit.
I got a slick new name and a hot new woman.
There is electricity between us. She hasn’t figured it out yet. All I have to do is make my move and she is mine. Just turn on the old charm.
She is probably your type. I’m sure you would be jealous.
8
So, you want to know what I’m doing for Thanksgiving. All the guys are going for the do-gooder’s free dinner. Not me. They can keep their stinking road kill and mashed potatoes. I’m employed. I’m going to work my way uptown and hit a dumpster at an upscale restaurant. A fine dinner under the stars. Accompanied by a good bottle of wine. Maybe I’ll find a donut shop and have coffee and a cruller for desert.
I sure got my share to be thankful.
Look at my body. Look here under this cashmere coat, not an ounce of fat. I got my health. The old body is rock hard. I once belonged to a gym. I worked out three times a week.
Believe it or not, I was a health food nut. I feel better now. I improved my health by eating garbage, rather than pounding down greens. I used to grow my own sprouts and eat cashew butter. That stuff tastes like shit. Probably gives you cancer.
Go figure, smoking camels and eating greens. Doesn’t seem to fit, does it?
Well, things have sorted themselves out. My body is fine and my mind is sound.
I had a long discussion with Little Pete yesterday. He said he believes that god created man and the way to heaven is through the church.
Pete eats their food and sings their songs. That doesn’t mean he has to buy their crap. There he is, spouting out the company line. Does he think that they will make him a bishop?
Gi