Have A Beer and a Good Time Even When You're Broke and Homeless in New York
Where: 8 Avenue & W 41 St , 10001 New York City (United States). When: on 11-10-2007.
Written at 11-12-2010 by Paul Madore
Labels - new york city fun nights adventure story site
16439 Reads
I didn't know what I was going to do. I was in terrible financial shape. My wallet was empty. I had even recently been robbed, but there had been money following that. I was just broke, now. I'd spent all my money getting to New York.
Right off the China Town bus I'd taken from DC, I found some labor. A couple guys were hucking and breaking down these boxes. I offered to help them for whatever they could spare. Between them, they came up with eight bucks for me. That was enough for breakfast and a pack of smokes, and then I spent the rest of the day figuring out what I was going to do with my life.
I was sort of on the run, and sort of homeless, but that was another story.
Anyway I started hustling around the Port Authority. I had a digital camera I could sell. That would bring in enough to get to where my mother lived, in Maine, which was where I was headed. It was getting late into the night and bus terminal closed. I was losing hope, but I had managed to get enough money together to store my stuff inside the terminal.
Then an older woman came by. I was nineteen years old. She was just passing by, and then she turned around and came back. She said hello and told me to walk with her. I walked with her. We stopped at a quickie mart kind of thing. She asked me what kind of cigarettes I smoked and told me to wait outside.
She came back outside with my brand of cigarettes then, Winston, and a twelve-pack of beer. She gave me these things, telling me to carry the beer, and then she flagged down a cab. She was dressed in a purple skirt and a tan sweater. She was really quite beautiful and sober. I got the feeling that she knew things about the world which I did not.
She took me back to her place. We drank some beers and soon made love. It was grand, I didn't know what to do with myself, how lucky I was. But it got better. She asked me what I charged. I told her I wasn't going to charge her, but she insisted that I say an amount of money. I said eighty dollars and that was enough to get me where I was going, fed and happy, the following day.
Her name was Sandy. I wonder if she'll ever read this.
Right off the China Town bus I'd taken from DC, I found some labor. A couple guys were hucking and breaking down these boxes. I offered to help them for whatever they could spare. Between them, they came up with eight bucks for me. That was enough for breakfast and a pack of smokes, and then I spent the rest of the day figuring out what I was going to do with my life.
I was sort of on the run, and sort of homeless, but that was another story.
Anyway I started hustling around the Port Authority. I had a digital camera I could sell. That would bring in enough to get to where my mother lived, in Maine, which was where I was headed. It was getting late into the night and bus terminal closed. I was losing hope, but I had managed to get enough money together to store my stuff inside the terminal.
Then an older woman came by. I was nineteen years old. She was just passing by, and then she turned around and came back. She said hello and told me to walk with her. I walked with her. We stopped at a quickie mart kind of thing. She asked me what kind of cigarettes I smoked and told me to wait outside.
She came back outside with my brand of cigarettes then, Winston, and a twelve-pack of beer. She gave me these things, telling me to carry the beer, and then she flagged down a cab. She was dressed in a purple skirt and a tan sweater. She was really quite beautiful and sober. I got the feeling that she knew things about the world which I did not.
She took me back to her place. We drank some beers and soon made love. It was grand, I didn't know what to do with myself, how lucky I was. But it got better. She asked me what I charged. I told her I wasn't going to charge her, but she insisted that I say an amount of money. I said eighty dollars and that was enough to get me where I was going, fed and happy, the following day.
Her name was Sandy. I wonder if she'll ever read this.