With Mrs Clown gone the discussion turned to how lucky Matt was that he didn't get physical with Clown last Saturday. Apparently the boys got into a drunken argument and Clown called Matt names. Had Matt touched the Clown he might now be looking at a possible manslaughter charge. Jay thinks Clown needs some more stints. A quick discussion then ensued as to who had the most stints. Apparently Juke Box Joe has five or six, and Ruben only three. Ruben said that Counselor said that Fox had been moved to another hospice. Nobody seems to have Fox's current phone number. Perhaps it would be fair to say that we are not the greatest pals a guy could wish for. I asked Rene to track down Fox's number, because lets face it, the clock is ticking.
This morning Street Jimmy was basking in the unseasonably warm morning sunshine as I approached the bar. He seemed in fine spirits. As I was unlocking the gate I asked him where he slept last night?
"Nowhere special. Starbucks, an' then I wents to the church but some mutha fucka had already locked it and so I just be movin' aroun' all night."
Faggypants joined us moments later. He looked like shit. He claimed he hadn't slept well. He hopes that the men wallpapering his moms kitchen will be done soon because he has to keep his parakeets locked up in their cage and it's dusty everywhere.
Street Jimmy seems fascinated by the fact that Faggypants has pet birds. When Faggypants mentioned that one of the wall paper men has parakeets, and that his can talk, Jimmy insisted on knowing why Faggypants' birds couldn't talk.
"They're girls and they don't talk as well, and some birds don't talk good ,period."
"They like people? Some peoples can talk better than others."
"Exactly, some people have better abilities than others."
I chimed in, "like me, I'm a genius, I'm a brilliant artist, terrific playwright, and a world renowned raconteur . Some people can play the piano, some can dance, some birds can talk , and some can't."
Jimmy nodded sagely, "you sure 'nuff is right. People's be all different."
"Exactly. Look at you , ninety nine percent of the people in the country couldn't survive on the streets like you do. You are a true one-percenter."
Jimmy liked hearing this and nodded in agreement.
Jimmy laid down on the wooden bench as if to go sleep, but then started one of his rambling , free association monologues . These monologues are often quite fascinating and this one was no exception. At first he was just blurting thoughts. When he insisted that voting was stupid I pounced on him.
"You stupid fuck head, you know how many black folks died so you could have the right to vote? How many had their asses kicked, how many went to jail? Why the fuck do you think they killed Martin Luther King? You sorry sack of shit, you can't possibly be that stupid. Plus, I told you I'd give you five bucks if you registered to vote and brought me your absentee ballot. "
Jimmy said he hadn't thought of it the way I described it. "You right, Martin Luther King was a great man."
"Not just that, " Faggypants added, you know how many jobs Harold Washington got for black people, and Jesse White too. Everyone should vote."
Jimmy said he'd register but I pointed out that it was too late.
Soon Jimmy was laying back down on the bench , this time he was riffing on his grandmother , Shotgun, and why she killed his grandfather. "My mamma and my grandma both loved me. When I says, Grandma , why you kill Grandpa,( he was a boxer named Rags) she say, Jimmy he was a molester. But when I keeps askin' her she say Jimmy , shut up. When the kids be fightin' with me by her house she say Jimmy, go out there and fight back. She a bootlegger -"
At this point Faggypants interrupted Jimmy, "she made her own booze?"
Jimmy shook his head, "uh, uh, no she buy it from somebody already in the bottles. She jus' sell it. Cops never fucked with her, nobody fucked with her."
Eventually Jimmy dozed off. When I was ready to go I woke him up . As we were walking down North Ave he said he thought he'd go over to the church and finish his nap. I said that sounded like a good idea and asked him not to forget to pray for my immortal soul. He said he would.