It took me a little longer than usually to make it to the bus stop.
A slight cold from monday became a full fledged sickness by my first day off.
I wrapped my self up in a long flowing jacket, a scarf around my face up to my cheeks, ear covering head band, skully cap over the head band and a pair of gloves.
"Just to buy some fuckin milk," I said outloud as I made my third attempt to exit my house without forgeting anything on my way.
Walking the streets of Albany for me is like an ex-junky walking through night club. There are literally three disabled people hobbling around out there for every person with perfect health.
I see old shaking ladies waddling down the road and I clench myself trying to hold back.
"no," I think
I see a young girl with Dawn syndrome, all dressed up and ready to go to work at McDonalds.
"not again," I think, grinding my teeth.
I make my way up to the bus stop, circling my head for Fidget, who never shows up.
"THEY ALL AROUND ME MEIN!??" I hear from deep inside the bus stop kiosk. There is a crowd in there, but it looks like they're starting to try and get out.
"I WAS IN DE VIETNAM MEIN!!"
I saw him now, about five foot nothing, about fifty years old. He was circling around and around looking at everybody surrounding him, who were now watching him from outside the kiosk glass.
"That guy is straight off the boat, there's no way he was in Nam," People whipsered around and around the glas walls staring in at the agitated beast.
"Somebody better do something, it looks like he's pulling the bench out of the ground,"
I heard the crowd attempting to find someone to stop this 5 foot mexican and I immediatly decided it was time to go..
"HEY IT'S THAT SUFFRA GUY"
"Shit' I thought as I picked up my pace and wrapped myself up in my coat a little tighter.
"HEY YOU, YOU HAVE TO STOP HIM," I heard from behind me as the sound of a wood bench shattering a glass window ricocheted and reverberated through the freezing city streets.
I started on my way back to the bus station to talk to the pleading Albanian villagers..
"you have to do something," one women pleaded, down on her knees dressed all in black and crying at the top of her lungs..
"haven't you been reading lady? I don't do things like that anymore," I said looking down on this miserable woman whos pain was accentuated by the literal hundreds of others around her screaming, writhing and crying for help.
"he's not even disabled.. he's just crazy... he looks healthy " I said trying to explain that this was out of my field of expertise
"I'm sorry, I just don't do violence like that in my stories.. I don't go for the cheap laugh.. I'm about social commentary and wit now," I pleaded with the old woman..
"well that would explain why it takes you a week to put up one 5 line post,"
I shook my head, "I'm trying to change,"
"we'll yer not fuckin funny any more," said an old construction worker walking by, "and look, that mexican guy is tearing up the place,"
"yeah, besides, if you really wanna stay smart about this, why not just talk him down?," said the old woman
I saw then that there was nothing left to do, and I wandered in through the broken glass wall.
"excuse me man," I waved at the immigrant vietnam vet who was now chewing some gum that he tore of the bench before he threw it at the crowd.
"listen, I can see your obviously flashing back to something that never happened," I walked around him, "and by no means do I want to anger you, but can I just ask your name?" I said sticking my hand out towards him
"is charlie," he said putting his hand out to reach mine...
"well I better let this play out" I though to myself,
"Hello Charlie, they call me suff.." and he was off running, ducking, screaming his own name, right into the middle of the street,
"yeah," I thought as I watched this guy sliced in half by a speeding motorcycle colliding with one of those new segways, through him, " I pretty much expected this to happen soon enough,"
"and why the fuck not?," said the construction worker, "killin whackjobs is your gift"
"blessing or a curse my friend, blessing or a curse,"
A slight cold from monday became a full fledged sickness by my first day off.
I wrapped my self up in a long flowing jacket, a scarf around my face up to my cheeks, ear covering head band, skully cap over the head band and a pair of gloves.
"Just to buy some fuckin milk," I said outloud as I made my third attempt to exit my house without forgeting anything on my way.
Walking the streets of Albany for me is like an ex-junky walking through night club. There are literally three disabled people hobbling around out there for every person with perfect health.
I see old shaking ladies waddling down the road and I clench myself trying to hold back.
"no," I think
I see a young girl with Dawn syndrome, all dressed up and ready to go to work at McDonalds.
"not again," I think, grinding my teeth.
I make my way up to the bus stop, circling my head for Fidget, who never shows up.
"THEY ALL AROUND ME MEIN!??" I hear from deep inside the bus stop kiosk. There is a crowd in there, but it looks like they're starting to try and get out.
"I WAS IN DE VIETNAM MEIN!!"
I saw him now, about five foot nothing, about fifty years old. He was circling around and around looking at everybody surrounding him, who were now watching him from outside the kiosk glass.
"That guy is straight off the boat, there's no way he was in Nam," People whipsered around and around the glas walls staring in at the agitated beast.
"Somebody better do something, it looks like he's pulling the bench out of the ground,"
I heard the crowd attempting to find someone to stop this 5 foot mexican and I immediatly decided it was time to go..
"HEY IT'S THAT SUFFRA GUY"
"Shit' I thought as I picked up my pace and wrapped myself up in my coat a little tighter.
"HEY YOU, YOU HAVE TO STOP HIM," I heard from behind me as the sound of a wood bench shattering a glass window ricocheted and reverberated through the freezing city streets.
I started on my way back to the bus station to talk to the pleading Albanian villagers..
"you have to do something," one women pleaded, down on her knees dressed all in black and crying at the top of her lungs..
"haven't you been reading lady? I don't do things like that anymore," I said looking down on this miserable woman whos pain was accentuated by the literal hundreds of others around her screaming, writhing and crying for help.
"he's not even disabled.. he's just crazy... he looks healthy " I said trying to explain that this was out of my field of expertise
"I'm sorry, I just don't do violence like that in my stories.. I don't go for the cheap laugh.. I'm about social commentary and wit now," I pleaded with the old woman..
"well that would explain why it takes you a week to put up one 5 line post,"
I shook my head, "I'm trying to change,"
"we'll yer not fuckin funny any more," said an old construction worker walking by, "and look, that mexican guy is tearing up the place,"
"yeah, besides, if you really wanna stay smart about this, why not just talk him down?," said the old woman
I saw then that there was nothing left to do, and I wandered in through the broken glass wall.
"excuse me man," I waved at the immigrant vietnam vet who was now chewing some gum that he tore of the bench before he threw it at the crowd.
"listen, I can see your obviously flashing back to something that never happened," I walked around him, "and by no means do I want to anger you, but can I just ask your name?" I said sticking my hand out towards him
"is charlie," he said putting his hand out to reach mine...
"well I better let this play out" I though to myself,
"Hello Charlie, they call me suff.." and he was off running, ducking, screaming his own name, right into the middle of the street,
"yeah," I thought as I watched this guy sliced in half by a speeding motorcycle colliding with one of those new segways, through him, " I pretty much expected this to happen soon enough,"
"and why the fuck not?," said the construction worker, "killin whackjobs is your gift"
"blessing or a curse my friend, blessing or a curse,"
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