Kissy Chrissy

She comes over to give my kitchen, then my wallet a cleaning. She’s all right.  She’s dressed up like Chilly Willy with a stocking cap, and it’s pretty outside with the big, soft snowflakes dropping straight down steadily.  It’s pretty.  I take her to Grace Church where she loads up on freebies of food.  They are free, albeit the foodstuffs that no one wants.  Apricots,  dried beans, etc.  She has this ambling walk I can spot a mile down the street.  This is because she was in a auto accident and hurt her hip.  Old “Broke Hip Chris” I sometimes call her.  She don’t like that name, but prefers “Kissy Chris”.   I can spot all these girls by their walk they’ve been in this hood so long.

These girls are not prancing around in expensive outfits, but jeans, sometimes wearing the same clothes for days.  I mean.. hard core.  I will take them to the thrifty store and load up, and they are happy to have the clothes.  I know their shoe sizes, and stock underwear and socks for them.  I don’t know why, they are nothing but trouble.

I sort of, relented and let her in the house.  I come in after a week on the road and people come around, wanting that bit of money.  What the heck.  My money gives life to this world.  It gives life to the people, the animals, and brings good things to me, I hope.  Money can also bring BAD things.  It’s like a supernatural force in itself.

Next, probably Tammy and Angela will come over..*groan*.  I got to hide my wallet someplace.  It’s not that they are bad.. it’s just the reality of this neighborhood.  I wanted to grease poor Fred’s slide, let him put my spark plug wires on my Honda for me.  But now, the girls are gonna clean me out, at least for the money that I alloted to spend.  I do not know why I am so altruistic.  When I was down and out, boy I never asked nobody for nothin’. but found a job.  I could never make it as a street hustler, the way many people around here live.

If Kissy Chris comes back, and does not go out and booze it up or dope it up with that $20 I gave her, I will take her to Arthur Bryant’s and get her a BBQ beef sandwich.  This is the most massive BBQ beef sandwich that I know of.  ONE of them will make about 4 sandwiches, so we will split one.

That old 87 Honda has plug wires that are badly frayed and worn out.  I think this is my problem.  It sometimes will not start.  Messing around and trying to guess what was wrong, I jiggled the coil wire and got it to start.  It is old, but runs good, when it runs, but needs some parts, either new, or from the junk yard.

Money is a strange thing.  Some people have to grind and hustle for the smallest crumb, while others seem to be just a magnet for it.  Our world is very strange,  and supernatural.

People around here need so MUCH is beyond my means.. it’s way beyond me.


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