Daylight (part 1)
There was a time in my life that I never saw the day light… except for when I was going home. Each day was just me fast forwarding from one after hours to another, bed sheets for curtains and red Gatorade for substance. A tan in the summer for me would be whatever sun I would catch on a ATM run. When I would crash I would crash hard masturbating to put myself to sleep after smoking whatever roach clip I had growing stale in the ashtray. If I had a good woman at the time she would be at work, if I had a bad girl she would be right there passed out with me… or awake scraping baggies for her next greedy little hit. Sunglasses, the essential accessory. I stopped buying expensive glasses after I lost 3 pairs of Karen Walkers in one week. That’s about $1,200 in trying to hide my face eyewear. Don’t ask my how you wear sunglasses when you’ve lost your face, I have no idea. The Pakistani that sells glasses on St. Marks st. knew me by name and always kept a pair of my favorite shades in a box not on display. I would haggle him for the joke but I stopped after I wondered if he thought I needed that extra buck for crack. No dad, my habits were way more expensive then that.
“mumble mumble mumble”
“Excuse me my friend?”
“mumble mumble Phillie mumble…”
“GET ME A FUCKING PHILLIE, THE POST, AND PACK OF CAMEL LIGHTS!”
“Ok ok my friend… so sorry you go now…”
This exchange became a common place for me for about 6 years. The Deli’s would change but my body odor remained the same, fresh vodka and/ or whatever cheap beer I could afford. Nose running like there was a snot race and I was in first place. Have you ever seen what a white v neck or any t-shirt looks like after 24 hours of wear and tear? Yup that’s me, the human dish rag… A bunch of 20 dollar bills in a ball and some 100’s hidden in my wallet. It’s a blessing that my memory would go and I could never find that cash stash because if I did I would have been broke or in the red a long time ago. The red, for me is not a fun place to be at. Usually it comes with someone being really upset and being denied or stalled on my necessary provisions. The idea is to always be of some value and function, even if your function is washing human dishes.
Not a day goes by that I don’t thank the Saint of Safe Passage.
Dear Saint Christopher,
protect me today
in all my travels
along the road’s way.
Give your warning sign
if danger is near
so that I may stop
while the path is clear.
Be at my window
and direct me through
when the vision blurs
From out of the blue.
Carry me safely
to my destined place,
like you carried Christ
in your close embrace.
I was probably listening to this:
Don’t forget your street smarts for God helps those that help themselves. I wouldn’t be surprised if I got that off a ghetto fortune cookie.
This is still and will always be New York City.
“Think of how many dudes died tryin to be down with you…” None yet, but these lyrics haunt me everyday.