Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Tony,Tony, Tony

I knew a lot of men named Tony while I lived on the streets. Tony that I saw at laundromat I knew since the day I moved into my apartment on Elm Avenue in 2001.

I may have gotten out of a taxi or off a bus dragging backpack or suitcase with me. He may have offered his assistance. I would likely say "No, thank you," and keep on walking. What I distinctly remember was sitting outside door of complex; man from rental agency was late arriving. I was sitting on my backpack or suitcase talking to Tony. He asked questions about the apartment. He was looking for one; he would wait and ask the rental guy to show him one. I am sure Tony left before the late arriving, very late arriving.

Conversation with Tony went something like this:

"Do you have a man?" him.

"Yes," me.

"Where is he?" him.

"Alabama" me. I started using that line while I was staying at the Monterey Motel. If a woman has a man why would he be letting her stay at that dive motel. And why was I alone dragging those bags. If I was your man...

Tony was staying at a SRO downtown, so I would see him now and then. We had an ice tea at an outdoor table at a place that probably no longer exists. Only vague recollections of that evening and conversation, other than thinking he was intelligent and interested in me. I'm here, he's there....
Soon Tony told me he was going to give the streets a try. Do not know if that was before or after my birthday that year.

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