Catching a Junkie

Published Saturday, May 16, 2009 by sinlawuhprtp | E-mail this post

I just got up,
Been working, painting all night
So I decided to Cinema Galaxy Carphone the Area Code Look Up Phone Number to get a Sistema Sistema Sicurezza or one of
The energy drinks.
I look across the street Texas Holdem Lessons the my Ecuadorian neighbor is in his window
Photographing a guy who just came out the front door of his house.
Anyway,
There is a key shop across the street where all kids of guys, middle
Age hangout
I go over there often Italians, Puerto Ricans and Portuguese mostly, 30
To 70 years old guys, drinking fishing, hunting, and kind of guys.
The junkie comes out of the house next door to it and is carrying a bog
Of something.
I see him leave the house. One of the guys in the key shop says get him
And we all start running.
No,
Let me stop here for a moment
I have at News Herald Willoughby Ohio 60-year-old body age,
I smoke; drink ten cups of coffee a day.
I hate shoe laces, nothing annoys me more than having to stop and find a
Suitable object (one low enough) to put my Kodak Digital Camera Photo Printer on and not high enough
To have to stretch any under used muscles...
I have taken to Live Auction Item sneakers and shoes with out shoelaces so I don't
Have to bend over, not that I could anyway.
The last time I ran was back in about 1980 the big hair days.
When was listening to Petsafe Invisible Fence loggins, sing and Neil sedaca belt out
"Bad Luck" my favorite song when, and Donna summer was on her last
Leg. And disc turned sour...
Ok so I take to running with the pack,
Shortly the other fat old men after two blocks or so of full out
Running stop and fall into a sort of stagger lunge motion, hands akimbo,
Panting forward. Kind of like Fred Sanford yelling out for Elizabeth.
You know exactly what I mean any person of color has either seen or done
The Fred Sanford dances at least one in their life.
The younger guys, Puerto Rican's shoot past us and catch the guy, a
Junkie at the three-block mark.
Let me stop here, these are really really long blocks I have to make
This clear in defense of my whining
We stagger along
Reaching the pack of two young guys now fighting with the junkie in the
Middle of the highway.
A crowded high way backed up with road construction, full of young white
Females locked in their cars, munching lunchtime V8 cocktails. You
Could see in their faces the wish to find a job closer to their homes in
The suburbs......
The young guys, "youth is wasted on the young" catch him...
But
They can't get him to the ground.
My policeman takes over. I get a breath of life adrenaline rushing.
I kick his legs out and put an arm lock on him almost breaking his arm.
Ooooppppppps.
He yells can you believe it, I quit, and I quit.
I yell I should kill you for making my fat ass run
I am laughing and smiling and everyone around me thinks I might be sick
Including the young guys, who fight a different way now, mostly through
Video games and wishing thinking while watching MTV raps
Where was I?
Two black female cops pull up look down at me sitting on this guys back,
I start laughing they start laughing.
Cop humor only another cop would understand...
They put the now subdued guy in the back of the police cruiser and
Return to the scene.
Everyone forgets about me... Left three blocks from home a hero, no
One cares my legs hurt the pain is back, lol.
So I have to walk back to the house sweating grunting.
I didn't even have a coffee or cigarette. Thanks god my oppressors chose
To remove me from the homeland, no coffee or donuts or reading news on
The Internet I would simply die...
The whole neighborhood came out to cheer, this is the truth.
The cops were impressed.
I took an aspirin, for the chest pains I am sure will come.
I had anthrax at least twice last week.
I just realized that I do still have a butt or at least a few muscles
That use to make up one.
Hey what happens to the butt when you age,
OK another topic.
Anyway, I proved at least one thing, I am still meaning...
OK now I will have the coffees and a donut and remember why I left the
Police force.
A day in the life of a fat black man locked into a life of servitude
With a multiplicity of children and baggage of lost loves and bad life
Decisions...a man who gets his joy now from chasing junkies and
Humor lost on most others....
Have a nice day and a laugh on me
Love the fat one

Catching a Junkie

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