Northeast Confidential

It’s Saturday night.  I watch Angie out in front, walking around by the bus stop.  She looks ok tonight, dressed in a pink top and blue jeans.  Lots better than she looks at other times.  It’s muggy out there.  I come around the corner and Angie strolls down my way.  A couple of others, black dudes are out on the front stoop.  A little silver car pulls around with “41” painted on the side, a hopped up Honda Civic, Angie walks toward it, but he drives on down the road, revving the engine.  A mexican dude, by the way he drives.  Angie goes back across the street, a couple other cars check her out, then finally, a car stops and she gets in.

A couple other hookers are walking up and down the street in front of the mexican grocery across the street, but I do not see what happens with them.  Probably the same deal.  Cars will circle around to check them out.  The driver wondering whether they are undercovers or not.  I am laying down, hoping for my stomach to settle down after a bout with that food poisoning or flu, whatever that was.

I am the only person in this building to have a doorbell, unfortunately.  I have a wireless one that I got from ebay, a china one, for $12.  It works good.  I am the neighborhood geek.  I also have a cheap chinese cam out front, coupled to a EZ Cap device on a cheap computer.  Works pretty good for a single cam, under $35 setup. Has night vision and everything.  Works good.  Anyways, people are always ringing my doorbell.  I tell ’em, “man, you can buy one of these for $12, I ain’t coming downstairs all the time to let everyone in.”.

Half the time I am running around the apartment in my shorts in this heat.  Sadistic, that is what I call living in this community.   I wish these congressmen would come and live down here for a while.

I go to the V.A. but I get no thrill of being around the other dudes.  Most of ’em are Vietnam vets or older.  The military really can be hard on people, and I am not talking just about War Zone guys.   Many, many of them are homeless.  It’s depressing. Most of the Vets like the V.A.  It’s pretty efficient really, not bad at all.  Better than many “hospitals” around the world.  They treat you good, even though they are busy.  The V.A. parking lot is packed, totally packed during the day.  At night only the E.R. is open.

The pain that the Vets are going through, and have gone through is most excruciating.  Jeez, I do not know if I could even tolerate it.  The V.A. Center is GOOD.  So that is one thing I am grateful for, having done the military thing.  However, I wish life were focused upon more positive things, other than conflict…and constant conflict.

It is depressing, however, the world gets far, far worse than this.  That is what keeps me going.  How do I want life to be? Like Andy of Mayberry.  Like Ozzie and Harriet.  Like Leave it to Beaver.

Old Dave the truck driver comes in.  I like these dudes, mostly.  They are simple.  Ohhh.. I am sick.  None o’ the girls come around ‘cos they know I am broke, and it’s o.k. with me.  Celibacy is cheaper, and less complicated.

I am listening to the last parts of the Gary Renard CD’s and they are good, except his own ego, and version of reality gets in the way.   I am getting over this stomach flu, and boy, I hope that is what it is.  There are a lot of bad things going on in life, and around me.

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