Native New Yorker

I worked for this artist

In New York

Downtown in Tribeca

Before it became such

An exotic address.

If I could tell you

What she was paying for her mortgage

For a complete floor

Of a loft building

It would make you sick.

It still makes my stomach churn.

Tribeca back in the mid eighties

Was still undiscovered

And was pretty cheap

To the point

Where there was a nasty

Strip bar at the end of the block

Where I worked

On White Street.

Not a ‘club’.

A ‘bar’.

After work one day

I decided to stop

In there for a drink

And some entertainment...

I mean it was some divey bar...

I was hoping to experience something profound

And out of the ordinary

‘Cause that’s how I operate.

I sat up at the bar

Next to this wirey sketchy cat

And ordered a drink.

The girls were trailer trash entertainment for sure

And there weren’t many lowlifes

At the bar.

I think I finished half of my drink

When the wirey guy

Goes

“These fuckin’ New Yorkers are motherfucking crazy!”

He turns to me

“What the fuck do you think?!!! I mean, these fuckin’ people are out of their fuckin’ minds!!! These people make me fuckin’ nuts!!!”

This came out of nowhere

To someone that just came in

Off of the street

To have a drink

And be entertained.

So I agreed with him.

The next thing I know

I’m laying on the floor

From a full on punch to the jaw

That landed me on the tiles

Straight offa my barstool.

And I’m spread out

On my ass

Rubbing my jaw

Discovering broken teeth

As this wirey sketchy cat

Sends a greeting from above

As he finishes his drink...

“Welcome to New York!”

“Fucker!”