a few things about me

After I wake up in the morning I lay there for at least ten minutes doing a body check. Please don’t ask me what I’m checkin for. I love old musicals. I’m a trivia freak. I know more about nothing then most folk. At one time in my life most of my peer group was made up of pimps, musicians and drug dealers. I’ve been shot at twice, cut more then once and had my right eye stabbed out in a bar fight. I think hookers are highly misunderstood.

I cried when as a kid I found out that you couldn’t believe everything you read. Monster movies scare me, Stephen King books scare me, and horror movies scare me. I dream about everything I see on TV or read. I’m smarter then I look, I’ve passed the tests to join at least two high IQ clubs but I don’t see the need especially since the muthafuckers want money. Dogs and cats think I’m one of them. I still miss my cat after all these years and can't bring myself to get another one.

I don’t like talking on the phone cause my attention starts to wonder. I have a serious problem remembering names, but I can recognize a person from five hundred yards away just from watching the way they walk. The dumbest thing I’ve ever done was to sell my house. I hate high fives. Just because I’m not smiling doesn’t mean I’m in a bad mood and I find happy people off-putting.

I started bouncing in bars to prove to myself that I was as tough as my father. I’ve been in over seven thousand violent incidents working in bars during a twenty year period where serious physicality was involved. I still feel bad about people I’ve hurt in bars. I hate boxing. I hate seeing people hurting themselves. I was once accused of being a warlock. I’ve been accused of being involved in porn. I’ve been accused of being a nark. I almost became a pro wrestler in the eighties. I once jumped off a second story balcony to see what it felt like. I’m shy. I very seldom lie and if I do it’s only to keep people from being hurt. I’m insanely trustworthy. They wouldn’t let me in the Cub Scouts as a kid because I was black.

And you know what else? I miss seeing the hooker’s hanging out On Main Street here in Midtown. That used to be the fun thing about driving up and down Main, seeing all the different types of hookers out working the trade. Did you know that hooker’s only worked one side of the street? Yeah, as a norm it was always the east side of Main. And did you also know that there are only two jobs where the pay has increased less then ten percent over the past fifty years? You guessed it, being a ho and a local musician. Which brings to mind, what do hookers and local musicians have in common? They both get fucked for a living! Hah, hah, I fuckin kill myself sometimes.

But seriously folks, for years when I still lived at home my father would always kid me that when I moved out I would set up in the red light part of town and start hanging out with hookers. And wouldn't you kmow I met my first hooker when I was still in high school. I had this part time after school job working as a gas jockey deep in the hood. And one day I was out on the drive fuckin around when this chick walked up and asked me if I wanted to go on a date. Now I was flattered as all get out and I said sure, why not. That’s when she said cool; we could go to the back of the building or the bathroom or even in my car.

That’s when my boss walked out and screamed at my slow ass to stop messing with that ho. He told me later that she was a regular on the block and her name was Kitkat. Why Kitkat I asked, he told me it was because her tongue was like a cats. I was to later find out that it was raspy like a cat’s tongue, but that’s another story. Driving up and down Main watching the hookers was a pleasant diversion, and I don’t know about other cities but here in Kansas City the hookers had a hard time dealing with rejection.

You’d be in the car driving past two or three standing on the curb and one of em would holler out, “hey, you wanna date”? And after hearing no it’ll change to “why the fuck not”, and half the time the bitch would start running after your fuckin car. Then there were the ¾ hookers. These were the hooker’s that were still sporting the moose knuckle downstairs, but had the rack upstairs. Sometimes it was hard to tell but the five o’clock shadow usually narked em out. And don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m obsessed with hookers it’s just that seeing em all the time was as natural as breathing it seemed. Plus they can be some of the nicest people.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"