Flatbush Willie

*TRUE STORY*

This is the story of my fun and fabulous New Years Eve in the city.  THE City.  As in, the City which was built on Sex and Sax on the Six...well, you get the jist.

I was originally supposed to spend New Year's Eve in South Jersey with Mick and the gang.  Then I found out I had to waitress, which sucks.  The bosslady and I argued about my schedule for that day, but in the end, I had to take the shift.  Though I would have preferred to see my friends in South Jersey, this was kind of a way to save me $50 and a tank of gas. 

So, anyway, I got a call from Flatbush Willie in NYC. He tells me about this happening party in Harlem that night. So, I agreed. Hell why not? Never spent NYE in NYC before...

Friendlys' is a non-alcoholic restaurant, so thankfully it closed at 8:30 PM.  I left work in a hurry, showered, and changed for the night.  I was originally told the party was "casual" (never listen to a straight man's fasion sense) so I wore jeans and a nice shirt.  Nothing fancy.  I put on some light makeup, let my parent's dogs out, then I took the train to NEW YORK CITEH!!  Sharing the train was a group of hot Asian men along with a flurry of drunks waiting to celebrate new years half naked with a bottle of champagne.  It took an hour to reach Penn Station, where I could see the ungodly crowdedness that is Times Square. Waiting for my friend to arrive, I have a $6.50 slice of pizza. Damn. That pizza better had gold in it.
After about a 1/2 hour wait, Flatbush Willie arrives. Instead of driving to Harlem right away, I wanted to be as close to Times Square as I could possible get being that I did not arrive at 9AM. So, we walked as far as we could and then heard the ball drop. We (Willie and I) were in back of the building with the Apple on it.  Wow, such an amazing feeling. All the people there were just so joyous. The feeling of togetherness was so palpable…then we were whisked back to reality when we had to watch out for vomit puddles and avoid the drunken fights. Hey, at least Willie did not get a ticket for parking illegally.
We got to the party in Harlem around 12:30 AM. During the drive, I called my friends to wish them a Happy NY after trying about 10X. Going into the apartment building, there was a strange lady who screamed “Happy New Year! Did you find Jesus yet?” I felt like saying “He’s on the back stairwell recovering from New Years” but that could have incited a riot on 96th.  We walked up the stairs, and for the place it was in, the apartment was nice. The place was nicely painted, and I never saw such a huge TV. Had to be 80 inches.  Well, then everyone was getting back from being at the clubs. $150 a ticket. I would never pay that, and if I did, I would be there from beginning to end. I guess they kinda knew because there was this air about them, like “oh your from jersey”, and they did not want to talk. There was kind of a harbinger at this party to warn me about the rest of the night. Willie told his friend that he did not see a single roach when he went to my apartment, much to his surprise.
 I realized early on in the night that the next train back to Matawan was not until 5:30AM. So, I followed my friend Willie back to his place in Flatbush, Brooklyn to kill some time. Well, this was a real Eye opener to the way people live. I walked into the building…and there was this smell, similar to the smell of roaches and filth. like the roaches owned the place and let people live there..So, I went into his place, and WHOA!!.  When he turned the lights on the roaches did not even flinch…it was disgusting…there were 20 of them just having their own New Years party right on the kitchen counter. He had the nerve to offer me juice, to which I abruptly said “NO”. I was trying not to come off as a snob but I was also glad I left my purse in my car at the Matawan train station. Well, then after I got over the initial shock of the cluttered kitchen, I went to his living/bedroom. I sat uneasily on the daybed. He assured me there were no roaches in this room, but one could never tell with all the stuff there. I had to use the bathroom, and there were roaches in the bathroom. He looked at me as if I was the one with the problem, and said, “Don’t worry they don’t bite”. Like he would know. After 15 minutes, I finally hovered over the toilet and prayed that nothing would come near me, since I had no shame at the moment of running and leaving a slight yellow trail. So, I got over that and watched an amazing special “the history of sex” on the history channel (no gratuitous nudity).
At 4:30 AM, I headed back to the train station.  I saw a sign in the building: "Please do not leave your doors open. There is a thief in the building. We do not know if he is living in the building or if it is the crackheads next door.” That summed up the building right there. I was glad to go back to the train station.  It was way too early, or late, depending on your schedule.  I bought a ‘cheap’ $7.50 cheeseburger & fries and also a National Geographic. Any other magazine and I would have fallen asleep amidst the sex articles. But they had such a good article on coffee, which of course I had in my right hand. I contemplated the days events. I had fun, and I did another thing I could cross off my todo list, of being in New York for Times Square. Yay.

10 Minutes of Silence

Walk outside

Inhale the garbage fumes

Exhale tension.

Sit down.

Whip out a cigarrette.

Try to light it

but the matches don't like fire

Suddenly, one match concedes

and my Marlboro is lit.

Inhale the tobacco tension reliever.

Exhale the stress of today.

Let thoughts escape.

Close eyes

Headache finally calms down.

No man to bother me.

No customer to annoy me.

No schoolwork to bog me down.

Watch the busy clouds roll by

They have work to do

Ignore the dumpster

or the stench of it.

Admire the Rowan Countryside

Thinkin' back to the easy times.

I looked forward to this?

Remember Roxanne

Think of the stupid things

The things we did in time free

And time free we had too much to be

enjoyable then.

I miss them.

Think back to....summertime

Dangle my feet off the firetruck ride.

But that wasn't good enough

Drive on 35 at 65 with Tina.

But that wasn't good enough

Stayin' out late on a date with my man, Tom

But that wasn't good enough.

So this is good?

Think of what has to be done.

Think of what has to be faced

And who gets honorable mention

on my shit list.

Think of the time

Look at the time.

See, it's time to go.

Say goodbye to the busy clouds

Put your memories away for another day

Flick your cigarrette.

Slowly, get your legs firm.

Go back to work.

More Ideas for the Novel

Very stressfull week at work.  11 hour days.  And yet, in my break time, the story is starting to take shape in my head.  Before, I could not imagine how the story began, or would end.  I took some inspiration from a few things.  For example, I could see in my head where Rose finally would get upset about being let go of her internship at a specific job.  She was so upset, in fact, she didn't want to go home and tell her dad.  So, she took the train from Long Island to Manhattan.  She had fun walking around the city, at night, doing things that were normally "forbidden" by her family.  She went to a nightclub and danced for two hours.  The bouncer didn't even check her ID!  After having a few drinks, she went into a pool hall.  It was there she met "Alonzo".  He was a tall, clean cut African American man, around 6 feet tall.  He was wearing dress pants and a dark gray dress shirt.  Rose felt that she could trust him, and so she told him about being in the city along.  He said this was a very dangerous thing for promised that he would show Rose around New York, and keep her safe.  Of course, that came at a price.  When he took her back to the hostel where she stayed, he insisted on sleeping with her.  This was her first time having sex, and she felt very dirty, and used.  Also, when he left, he tried to take her $$.  However, she started to yell at him outside the hostel, and this attracted the attention of a local named Scully.  Scully stole back the money for Rose, and "rescued" her by bringing her to his aunt's house for the evening.  She slept on the couch.  In the morning, she was woken up by the most handsome man she ever met.  His name was Dean.  He was 18, as she was.

I also figured out that I can somehow make it so that Dean sees a missing person's ad, and realized that he may be considered Rose's kidnapper.  So he ends up taking Rose back home.  Rose, of course, is unwilling to separate from Dean, but finally goes, if only to have Dean avoid issues.  Meanwhile, they pursue their seperate careers.  6 years later, they finally meet back up thanks to good old social media.

Of course, the logistics of it all, I am still trying to work in my head.  But it feels good to finally be thinking of the story again. Funny how this only happens the more depressed I am.

Lil' Sister

Inspired by Little Sister by Jewel
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5Rjfyc7Gnc

Hey lil' sister
going home to Mister So and So
knock knock knocking
on his door again last night
in a fit of rage
Threw your clothes on your floor
He hit you
And you went back for more and more
like a hurricane
Shining saddle on his doorstep
to rescue you
but you didn't take it
said you deserve the torture
of spring sunny days flashing before
like you've never seen
and will never get to enjoy them
like a child

Why does her mind wander around
with a confused passion
like a dragon or a demon
searching for answers
of the unknown question:
Who killed my mother
and my dear father
all in one fell swoop
like flowers drifting on the ocean
got some water
but 'tis not the right kind
Oh, no I don't mind that you
made me dinner of rice and cracker jacks

Whose that round back?
Go and answer the door
but 'tis the same
yet not like before

Bless your heart,
How did you rip your skin?
Where did it come from?
Where have you been?
I just took a walk round the big ol' lake
about a quarter to 4
then I saw a poor
little girl just walking alone
and you know after midnight,
it's not safe for little girls
with white lace bobby socks
and a little pink sundress
and long straight hair in pigtails
to go searching for snails
Sure enough, she fell,
and then let out a wail
But lil' Suzy
mama ain't here
she's having a beer
with Mr So and So
So you better get to
knocking on his door before
he slaps your momma some more
Maybe someday you'll receive
a reprieve from your crazy life
and enjoy a spring sunny day
like the kind your momma never had

It's too bad, so sad
your momma never knew
the gift she had in a little girl like you
until one Sunday in May
you ended up in a body bag
thanks to Mr So and So
and his drama
Knocking Up Your mama
one more time so they
needed you no more
another mouth to feed
and care for
But it was so easy
Just knock her to the floor
and let the maggots do the rest
Oh Lil' Suzy
you deserved
so much more...

You know, I should really write down these momentary blips of imagination...they could all congeal and form a fabulous story.

I remember reading in the "Complete Idiots" guide to Creative writing that  one idea doesn't make a novel.  You need two or three key pieces in a story to make a great novel.  So, like, as timeless and epic as I might see Rose and Dean, I simply got tired of writing about them.  Because in my mind, I had to pull everything out of my mind.  And as much as I have lived, my life isn't nearly as interesting as some people's.  Like, for example....one of my LJ friends.  Her stepdaughter is living the life, moved from MN to northern CA all while couch surfing and working for various odd jobs and various odd people's.  Something I always wanted to do.  When I was 18, and didn't have any balls.  Hell it took all of my strength to go to college as far away as I did (2+ hours away.  From my entire world.  Scary.  And just what I needed.)  And also, I should have switched majors in college.  I knew I wanted to in my Third year.  But as with any other decision, I was made to feel that OF COURSE I was gonna finish college and OF COURSE I was gonna get a job, get married, have kids, because that's what people do after college.  They come home and make their parents happy.  So guess what.....this is going to be a novel on Road tripping.  WHY NOT include something about a failed life goal?  Dunno.  Maybe she couldn't complete the epic dream intern job.  Because her mom died.  Or someone important.  Someone essential to her being.  In my case, it was my brother.  But for her, it could be her "birth" mother, or something.