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23 August 2013
When walking up the sidewalk to the park the only person I saw was Richard, shirt off sunning himself. I thought he was alone, but when I rounded the curve I saw the others.
Joy was the first to speak, “Dennis, I’m hammered, man. I’m not even sure I can stand up. I was just thinking about how I can fuck my neighbor’s weekend. He said he knows cops that can put me in prison. He’s just a fucking gardener, for Christ’s sake. I’ve been in prison before, for some really nasty shit, but that’s all behind me. Who does this guy think he is? Cops have checked my record, there’s no way they’re going to bring me back to Montreal for things I did there twenty years ago.
“I even talked to my family. They were glad to hear from me and glad to help. The only thing is, I’ll have to put up with my uncle’s crazy, witch, girlfriend. She spends a hundred bucks a month on black hair dye and she still ends up with a white stripe down the middle.
“Are you with me on this , Mariah? I wish we had your Harley right now. I had a Sportster in Toronto that my uncle rebuilt specially for me. Then I lent it to my sister. You know what happens when you’re going up a steep driveway and you gun the engine?”
“I know, ” I said, “you go right over backwards. I’ve done it myself.”
“Ass over tea kettle!” agreed Mariah.
Joy said, “My uncle was really pissed off. He said, ‘I built that bike for you. Now you’re barred.’ That gave me the opportunity to beat the shit out of my sister. I enjoyed that, but I missed the bike.”
I said, “I used to ride a 650 Suzuki GL, but I always wanted a Harley.”
Mariah said, “I usually rode a Shadow, I had a Harley for a while, but that was way back. What you need to do is get someone to rebuild you a bike. They’re a lot better.”
“Like a knucklehead or shovelhead? I asked.
“Yeah, they have great vibrations. Every woman loves a Harley!”
Loretta, Buck and his dog Dillinger came by. Dillinger licked my face as I sat on the sidewalk. Joy said, “I’ve fed that dog, given him treats, looked after him; he doesn’t give me kisses.”
I said to Loretta, “I see that you’re drinking coffee, or at least it looks like coffee.”
“It’s coffee. I’ve just passed my anniversary, eight months sober.”
“Congratulations, that is a great accomplishment. I’m so proud of you.”
“Well, you saw me while I was drinking. I was a real mess.”
“I’ve been the same. Now is what counts.”
A plump, middle-aged woman stopped by. She asked, “Does anybody here know where I can buy some pot.”
Joy, nervously said “Yeah.”
“I’ve asked kids on the market, but they just laugh at me. I’m from the seventies, I just want something to mellow me out.”
Joy said, “You’d only get shit from them anyway.”
“How much can you sell me?”
“What do you charge?”
“If I want more can you hook me up with somebody.”
“Where can I meet you. Are you around here every day.”
“Most mornings until about one o’clock.”
“Okay, I’ll see you again.” She took her gram then walked away.
Mariah said, “I hate having to deal with strangers.”
Joy said, “Don’t worry, It’s my pot. You’re safe.”
Shakes said, “One time, in Toronto, a guy came by my place and asked to buy a gram. That was fine. Then he came again and wanted to buy forty grams. The third time he arrested me for possession of marijuana for the purpose of trafficking. I got ten years.”
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