gonna stop this shit
i helped blue out once
with this dime he had
i looked it up and told him
i think this might be worth
but i’m not sure.
i gave him a coin collector’s guide
and sent him on his way.
well, blue stopped in today
drunk on colt 45 and hennessey
and told me his dime was worth
and that he wasn’t selling it
just has it at home wrapped up
i told him coin stores would have
something to put it in and keep it safe
but blue just laughed
took a hit on the colt 45
and told me he don’t need no
coin protector ‘cause he’s from the ghetto.
then blue gave me his wallet
the second time someone has handed me
their wallet in two days
and i just held it until blue took it back
and showed me his i.d.
also something that’s happened to me
twice in two days.
i must look like a cop, i thought.
blue’s i.d. was a learner’s permit
what do you think of that? he said.
driving, i answered
shit yeah, blue said, slapping me five.
he was probably 50 years old.
i’m gonna drive
got a job coming to me
and when that all happens, i’m
gonna stop this shit, he said
pointing at one of the bottles of colt 45.
then he had a drink.
can’t be drinking and driving.
no, that would be bad, i said.
blue laughed and slapped me five again.
then he stopped talking
to check out one of the clerks who
was bending over to put books away.
did i tell you i can make
a mean thing of fried chicken? he asked.
burn your mouth off.
that sounds good, i told him. but, listen,
blue, i have to get back to work.
i understand, i understand, blue said.
he had some more colt 45.
i just wanted to thank you for helping me
with that dime.
you’re welcome i said.
here. blue reached into his pocket
and tossed me a brown pear
with a steam that bent nearly to the middle.
then he grabbed his stuff and left.