1
Whalley Ave going to Papa Johns after gym cause 50% Discount at 11 pm. On the phone with Porscha, on AirPods. Dark block, walking and talking loud. Older dude says How am I? I look slightly back and say, I’m coo, How are you? He says he’s been better. I say, huh? He repeats he’s been better and drops his head. He looks 40s, kinda swole or a little fat. Long sleeve gray shirt. Black jeans, white air forces with black swooshes. Bald head and earrings. Studs. I think about how when people are doing bad in the streets it pushes you outside of norms to get money, you know, by any means necessary. I respond with I feel you, I’ve been better before too. I'm walking, still on the phone but not talking. Still walking in the dark, He says out loud, my life is fucked up, I fucked up. I say, damn. He’s now walking next to me. I turn and ask if he’s hungry.
Yeah, I guess. I'm picking up a pizza. Want some? Yeah, I guess. I fucked up my life. I'm fucking stupid. I fucked over my roommate and he’s a good dude. A really good dude. These fuckin drugs man. It's cool. Just got to learn how to control that shit. I can't. We walk into Papa Johns.
I have on a gray under armor shirt. Black joggers and Black air forces with gum bottoms. I ask for the pizza I ordered. The cashier asks for my student ID. Internally, I start tripping a bit. I'm on what school people said was “the hood side” where students are targets. I show my school ID tho. The cashier hands me my pizza. The Works. I sit down at a table and not the bar sitting area. I tell him to sit across from me. Grabs a chair and sits, looks me in the eye, and waits for me to open the box. I open and tell him to grab a slice. My hands are dirty and I don't want to disrespect your food. Cool, here you go. Two slices on napkins cause they didn't have plates. He says thank you. He looks flustered, lounging in the chair, and eating. Looking me in the eye. I feel him talking to himself in his mind but can't make out what. He keeps saying how he fucked up. I don't really care to know what happened cause I'm no one to be judging. I listened. He asked where I'm from. I say South Central LA. Why you here? School? Yeah. Why here? This place sucks. Feels like home. I get school but still in the hood? Yeah, it's still the hood. I'm okay with that tho. We talk about hood shit a bit. Shootings, gangs and drugs. I came from a good family and threw it all away. Shit. I came from a fucked up place and tryna make something out of it. You are. I'm 51 and dont have shit. We don't speak.
Look at each other's eyes and eat. Sit and just eat. I never thought pizza would be my last meal. What you mean? This is it. You going to jail? Somebody looking for you? Naw it's my life. Meaning someone is looking for you? Nah, it's my life. We get quiet again. I'll be looking for you. I walk so Ill have my eye out for you. You'll find me. Cool I will. At the city morgue. Wait there are other ways to do shit. I know but I already made up my mind. Well regardless of what happens, I'll look for you. If I don't see you, in a few, then I'll still come see you, at the morgue. Thank you.
1
Whalley Ave going to Papa Johns after gym cause 50% Discount at 11 pm. On the phone with Porscha, on AirPods. Dark block, walking and talking loud. Older dude says How am I? I look slightly back and say, I’m coo, How are you? He says he’s been better. I say, huh? He repeats he’s been better and drops his head. He looks 40s, kinda swole or a little fat. Long sleeve gray shirt. Black jeans, white air forces with black swooshes. Bald head and earrings. Studs. I think about how when people are doing bad in the streets it pushes you outside of norms to get money, you know, by any means necessary. I respond with I feel you, I’ve been better before too. I'm walking, still on the phone but not talking. Still walking in the dark, He says out loud, my life is fucked up, I fucked up. I say, damn. He’s now walking next to me. I turn and ask if he’s hungry.
Yeah, I guess. I'm picking up a pizza. Want some? Yeah, I guess. I fucked up my life. I'm fucking stupid. I fucked over my roommate and he’s a good dude. A really good dude. These fuckin drugs man. It's cool. Just got to learn how to control that shit. I can't. We walk into Papa Johns.
I have on a gray under armor shirt. Black joggers and Black air forces with gum bottoms. I ask for the pizza I ordered. The cashier asks for my student ID. Internally, I start tripping a bit. I'm on what school people said was “the hood side” where students are targets. I show my school ID tho. The cashier hands me my pizza. The Works. I sit down at a table and not the bar sitting area. I tell him to sit across from me. Grabs a chair and sits, looks me in the eye, and waits for me to open the box. I open and tell him to grab a slice. My hands are dirty and I don't want to disrespect your food. Cool, here you go. Two slices on napkins cause they didn't have plates. He says thank you. He looks flustered, lounging in the chair, and eating. Looking me in the eye. I feel him talking to himself in his mind but can't make out what. He keeps saying how he fucked up. I don't really care to know what happened cause I'm no one to be judging. I listened. He asked where I'm from. I say South Central LA. Why you here? School? Yeah. Why here? This place sucks. Feels like home. I get school but still in the hood? Yeah, it's still the hood. I'm okay with that tho. We talk about hood shit a bit. Shootings, gangs and drugs. I came from a good family and threw it all away. Shit. I came from a fucked up place and tryna make something out of it. You are. I'm 51 and dont have shit. We don't speak.
Look at each other's eyes and eat. Sit and just eat. I never thought pizza would be my last meal. What you mean? This is it. You going to jail? Somebody looking for you? Naw it's my life. Meaning someone is looking for you? Nah, it's my life. We get quiet again. I'll be looking for you. I walk so Ill have my eye out for you. You'll find me. Cool I will. At the city morgue. Wait there are other ways to do shit. I know but I already made up my mind. Well regardless of what happens, I'll look for you. If I don't see you, in a few, then I'll still come see you, at the morgue. Thank you.