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from: Mugtoe
207.136.9.148
6/26/00
5:08:54 AM
So I'm up at the maintenance man's apt the other night. His name's Rolando. He and I and his brother, Uriel, are drinkin Modelo and doin a little coke for no good reason when Julio comes by with this one-legged whore. Julio is one of the kept boys of another neighbor - an oldish grade-school teacher with a penchant for chorizo on the hoof. I think he was desperate to score a little to redeem himself in the eyes of his compadres around the courtyard.
I liked her cause she was straight-up. But I wouldn't wanna hang out with her. She lost her kids when she was locked up in prison, and now lives only for a bit of rock and a room at the Living Inn on Harry Hines Blvd. She wanted me to take Rolando's car and drive her to the dopehouse at about six in the morning. I told her to hobble over there herself if she wanted it that bad. I just don't jones to that extent anymore. I'm too old for it.
I gave Julio the key to my place so he could get some for $30, and then he went home to catch a little shuteye before work. Uriel got some later for $20, I think. I went home later and took a long shower. Hell, it ain't my sofa anyway. My ex, Bobby, will be by later this week to take his couch to his new apt. I was just storing it for him here. I'll just use my beanbag chair.
Too late to get any redemption on this end. The only thing I have in common with most folks is our corruption.
