Sigma Chai

I am currently reading Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee. It’s “an Indian history of the American west.” It’s pretty much nonstop bummers. But its got me thinking about changing my name to Stands-in-Puddles and selling Heather for some glass beads and salted meats.

Speaking of bummers, school started up again for the youth of Chicago. Now -instead of spending their energy pummeling each on the basketball courts behind my place or huffing paint outside the Trebol liquor store- they are packing the #60 bus full of their beady eyes and boney elbows and taking out their end-of-the-school-day aggressions on innocent “white bread” (they’re especially mean when I’m wearing pink shirt and tie combo.) Take for example, the little fat kid that sits on the box factory steps all afternoon. During the summers, he’s usually nursing a bloody ear, an ice cream cone, a plastic bag full of gold spray paint, and either a gameboy or berretta. Now he sits out there with a backpack, a notebook, and carrots sticks. So instead of a completely happy satisfied little angel there’s a hyped-up punk just itching for a fight. So I’m walk by the little bugger and he says:

Little Bugger: “Nice shirt.”
W.B: Are you really saying, “you’re gay”
Little Bugger: Yes.
W.B.: well, alright then.

Then he’ll walk behind me the rest of the way home stepping on the backs of my shoes. If I start running he starts throwing rocks yells: Where you goin’ Huckleberry? I ain’t done with you yet.

Once the others hear “Huckleberry” is running they appear out of nowhere, surrounding me with their sticky purple hands, BMX bikes, and Minnie Mouse backpacks filled with God only knows what kind of rage inducing vegetable or fruit. Trapped in the center, they take turns pushing me and grabbing at my Marshall Field’s bag.

Mean Childs: What you got in there Fish? Huh? What you got?”
W.B.: Just cigarettes, a flask, and a couple porno mags, honest.”
Mean Childs: You sure? You don’t got no pixie sticks or nothin’?
W.B.: honest, just low grade smut.
Mean Childs: you bogus! Open the bag Fish!

If I open the bag, I’m as good as dead because I’ve got approximately 34 Snickers bars hidden under the skin mags. But I’m not out of tricks just yet. Oh no. I’ve got one move left and it works every time. What do I do? Easy, I just start kicking the little monsters and using my heights and superior strength to overpower them. You’d think they’d learn, but kids on school-bender do some “crazy ass shit.”