Ann, her mother, and I went dinner at Serendipidity 3. Tim Dunleavey and William Lively joined us. The four of them went to a play on Broadway. I headed down to CBGBs. The Tuff Darts were on stage. I drank a beer, wearing a suit. I didn’t have any money, but as my Nana said to me, “It’s one thing to be broke, it’s another look it.”
A couple from New Jersey were hitting on a gay boy. I never liked bullies and told them to stop. They swore at me, saying, “Mind your own business, fuckhead.”
I laughed at them and her date got ready to spit at me.
“You spit on me and I break your face.”
I swallowed my gum, since it’s never good to get whack with a slack jaw.
His drunk girlfriend crowed, “Go ahead, you faggot.”
The gay boy fled the bar area. Merv the bouncer was nowhere in sight. Her friend cleared his throat and said, “”You’re six million times a Jew. I should shot you.”
“Why don’t you do everyone a favor and try and be human.”
“Fuck you.” He brandished the gun in his waistband.
I sucker-punched him in the jaw and grabbed his shirt so he couldn’t get away. He struggled to get at his gun. I punched him in the nose. Blood poured from both nostrils. I struck him again. KO. I released him and he slumped to the floor. No one at the bar had even noticed the brief fight and I bent over to get his gun. His girlfriend kicked at me, screaming in pure Brooklynese, “Wait till my father hears about this. He’ll kill you.”
I restrained her as best as I could, as her boyfriend rose up and blindsided me with a sharp right. His best punch and I heard a tooth crack. I turned to him, but before I could get revenge, people restrained us. Merv thew them out and I followed. They were gone and I went inside rubbing my jaw.
Several minutes later Ann came up, swearing under her breath at Hilly’s daughter, “I hate her. She made me pay.”
I never paid.
I don’t know why.
“You missed my fight.”
“I was wondering what was the commotion. I figured it was some idiots having a fight.”
“That’s me.” I didn’t tell her about saving the gay boy and we left the bar. Ann walked me to 11th Street. I invited her upstairs.
“I can’t. My mother’s afraid of the city.”
“With good reason.” New York was dangerous. “I’ll walk you home.”
“You don’t have too.”
“It’s a dangerous city.”
At her door she kissed me and said, “Come by at 3. My mother will be at a play.”
“I’ll be there.”
LATER
Ann wasn’t home at 3 and I figured she had gone to the matinee with her mother. I thought about calling an old girlfriend, but decided to wait for Ann. Her mother can’t stay in New York forever.
LATER
People are full of shit. None of them mean what they say. I would rather be a hermit than have to listen to their drivel and my room at the SRO is like a Trappist monk’s cell. No phone. No TV. The more possession you have the less you are yourself. Only a few visitors come here; William Lively, Mark, Eleanor, Ann, Anthony, Jaci, Kim, and Andy Reese.
Ann is the only regular.
No one else has returned to this squalid room. My life becomes completely obscure here. Often I’m lonely. The four walls never change. except for the pattern of the cockroaches’ wanderings. These vermin are more alive than me and if the hotel burned to the ground, there would be no trace of me. My remains will be sent to a pauper’s grave, since I couldn’t afford a cremation and that’s the end I want.
Bones ground to dust. A warm urn filled with white ashes.
LATER
Thank the stars for CBGBs. It’s my only source of entertainment. Cold beer and punk rock. I need money.
LATER
Where is Ann? Where is Andy? Where is my Mother and Father? Where are my brothers and sisters. Where are my teachers? The wall to my left matches the other three walls And the ceiling, but not the floor. I am the only one in this room Everyone else in the world is outside. Where am I? Here? Where are you? Not here. Where are you and I?
LATER
Ann and I went to Max’s. It was too smoky for my lungs. The doorman was charging $10 to see the Heartbreakers. I shook my head. I had no money and walked Ann back to her apartment. Outside on the street I whispered, “Let’s fuck.”
“My mother’s there.”
“I know, but we can pretend to be in high school.”
“I’m not a high school cheerleader.”
“I never said you were.” My hand slipped under her dress and strayed between her legs.
Ann pushed me away and said, “Go now.”
She wasn’t angry, but didn’t kiss me good-night.
I jumped on the train and sat smelling her on my fingers.
Wishing it was more.
LATER
A junkie gave me a Black Beauty on 6th Avenue. “I seen you play B-Ball at West 4th. You play defense. If you have money one day, give me $2.”
I dropped the pill and continued to my room. The ruthless rush of Speed drove my blood through the night. Speed is not a good bed companion. I felt strong. I felt not alone. It was all a delusion.