It’s going to snow again tonight and I’m seriously not going to make it. The bodega across the road is making a mint off me in daffodils and chocolate. I’ve got to cheer up somehow.
I do wonder what they think about people’s regular purchases over at the bodega. I usually buy cheese or chocolate and flowers. There’s another dude who buys a whole bunch of hardware-type stuff and condoms. I stand back when he orders: “I’ll take the duct tape, a glue-stick and … uh … some Trojans.” Ew!
Late-night, the drug dealers are always there. These guys are pros. They’re not like the dudes who brush by you in Union Square hissing “smoke.” They only ask if you’re interested. I suspect that most people who buy cheese, chocolate and daffodils are bad business. We’ve already got our synapses sorted. Perhaps at the expense of our thighs, but what can you do. Anyway, they never ask me.
The only reason I know they’re drug dealers is that there’s no other reason for a 16-year-old white kid to be there.