Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 2 Leaving Home

The cop’s proceed to drive out of Guilderland and get on the highway in the direction of Albany.  “Are you ok?” one of the officers asks me. There is a mesh grate that separates the front seat from the back; I just stare out the window into the night.

The squad car continues down the highway and as they put on their blinker, I see that we are entering the downtown Albany area. The ramp from the highway takes you to an exit right near the Albany bus station, unfortunately, it looks like a war zone.  Empty storefronts, shady hotels and burnt out cars pepper the scene. Nobody lives or ventures this far downtown unless you are destitute, looking for a prostitute or you’re looking to buy drugs.  I have no idea where we are going.  I can see a church out of the back window that looks like it should be somewhere in Paris, it rivals Notre Dame, except that it looks like no one has been there in years and its splendor has seen better days.  The church stands abandoned, most of its windows smashed out.  We pass several working girls that wave at the cop car as it passes.

Row after row of abandoned buildings line the block.  I am scared but trying not to show it.  We finally arrive and pull up to a building that is as far downtown as you can get. There are no other buildings around it and it stands about three stories high. One of the cop’s walks around to the side of the squad, opens it and motions to the building with one out stretched hand. “Welcome to your new home,” he says. The second cop is standing on the front steps, he explains to me that this is a runaway shelter named Equinox, it’s for troubled youths.

The first cop reaches out and rings the bell. I stand there and start to shake, expecting the worst. A light goes on above the front door and there seems to be a flurry activity directly inside this door. I can see someone now standing at the front door on the other side of the window. The knob turns and the door gets yanked inwards. Standing directly in front of me is a chubby little man who stands at about 4 feet 3inches tall. I would put his weight at about 200 hundred pounds. His hair is flaming orange and shoots out in all directions on his head, it looks as if we just woke him up. He smiles showing a mouth full of dead teeth. He is wearing a black Hells Angels t-shirt and has a chain attached from his front pocket that crosses his leg and attaches to his wallet in the back. “Hellooooooooooooooooo,”he says rolling his eyes and puffing out his cheeks. He looks at me and the cops and exclaims “Jinkies, it’s the cops, what can I do you for officers?” I can tell that he is trying to put me at ease.

One of the cops takes his hand and pushes me forward. “Laroy, this is a new ward of the state.” Laroy tips and imaginary hat and bows deep. “Ellooooo, young master, you’re going to like it here, and you get an extra cup of gruel just for the asking.” He laughs to himself and shakes his head. He motions us to come in and the cops flank me, one in front and one in the back. I am sure that they are used to people trying to break and run.

They lead me into an office right off the main entry way. Laroy pulls out a chair, reaches in his back pocket pulling out a bandana that he uses to dust off the imaginary dirt on the chair; he laughs again and motions me to sit. Laroy takes the chair directly across from me. On the wall behind him is newspaper picture of Nancy and Ronald Reagan, someone has taken a black pen giving Ronald an Adolf Hitler hairdo and mustache. Laroy follows my eyes to the poster. “I don’t know who did it,” he says and then mouths the words “the furher,” to me. Laroy quickly stands up, walks over to a desk and grabs a large ledger book. “Oops, almost forgot,” he says. He returns to his chair and pushes the book across the desk to the cops. One of the cops looks at the time on his watch and signs the book. The cops start to leave and one of them turns back to me and says “If you need us you call,” and with that, they are gone.

“They’re gone break out the booze,” Laroy says and literally slaps his thigh. I try not to laugh but am starting to feel safe for one of the first times in my life.

Laroy starts to give me the rules and history of Equinox.

To be continued………….

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 1 Leaving Home

The year was 1979. I was a sophomore at Guilderland High School in upstate New York.  The problem that I was having was with my home life. I was having such difficult time living with my parents; actually my mother and I were not getting along at all. The arguments, the fights and the screaming had gotten so bad that they called the police one night and had me removed from their house.  The fights had gotten so out of control and my Mom’s burgeoning relationship with alcohol had also gotten out of control. It was like living in Hell. A hell that I no longer wanted to live in and a hell they didn’t want me to live in.

I’m not even sure what this fight was about. I was never really sure what any fight was about. I knew that she was upset that my father travelled a lot and she was in charge of everything. If we stepped out of the line that she established the shit would hit the fan and our father would be called. Everything turned into a fight and a contest of wills with her.  I had trouble understanding her logic and her rules. I felt that a lot of them were made up on the spot. It was like in a pressure cooker. I couldn’t take it and would lash back at her whenever she would lash out at us.  

My brothers and my sisters were living at home at the time and would see these fights. They would become the targets of these arguments after I left but none of them would stand up at least not until years later.

I needed to go because I felt like I was losing my mind. The funny thing that I remember about that night was that my mother was concerned that the neighbors would talk, even though she was the one who called the police.

I had little time to gather my things.  One of the cops entered our house and followed me into my bedroom. The other cop stood at the front door and waited for me.  I could see neighbors looking out at our house through their closed drapes, only pulling the sides to look out.  Some neighbors stood outside on their front lawns to get a better view.   

The cop car stood in our driveway. The lights on the top of their car were spinning but they had no sirens on.  It was a neighborhood wide show. Things like this never happened in Guilderland.

One of the cops held up the back door of the squad car and asked me to “Watch my head” getting in. I slid across the back seat of the squad car and the cops closed the door.  I could hear the door lock tight but I remember that there were no locks that I could see on the door.  I have never been more scared in my life.  “We have a place to take you tonight,” one of the officers said through the wire screen separating the seats.  I met his eyes in the rear view mirror.  He nodded his head at me and gave a smile. “You’re ok now,” he said and started the car.

The cops backed their car out of the driveway; I could see my parents faces illuminated in the lights of the squad car.  They stood in separate windows.

To be continued……………

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 28 Enter The 9th Circle

I hurry down the stairs hoping that there are still some customers  left in the bar for me to wait on. I have spent way too much time with Bobby and I’m not making any money to pay my bills. The party in the bathroom has broken up and the door has been left wide open.

Almost running down the stairs, I pray that the buzzer summoning me back upstairs won’t ring for the rest of the night. I reach the bottom of the landing, and see that Stinky is with another date. This one looks like he has passed out. Stinky is rifling through the old man’s coat pockets. He flashes a smile as I pass by. “Don’t judge,” he says, batting his eyes. “A girl’s got to make a living.”

Grabbing the knob, I open the door to the club and find that the place is packed. The lighting has been turned down and the place is now illuminated by the lights on juke box and various low-wattage lamps on the bar. Don lifts his head while making a drink and motions me over. “Our homeless boy has fallen asleep at the table. Go throw him out,” he says, grimacing. “Where’s Brian?” I ask. Don motions with his head to the pinball machine. Brian is in full ecstasy while he works the flippers and gently humps the game. “I’m on it,” I tell Don.

Walking over to the table I see the homeless guy has only nodded off again, but gives the appearance that he is sleeping. In fact, he is in a full heroin nod. Using a tray, I nudge him and he sways a little with the nudge but is still out cold. I nudge him again and this time his eyes open to half mast. “Time to go, my friend,” I scream in his face. He smiles and nods out again. I repeat the tray nudge and his eyes flap open. He smiles, stands and teeters back and forth. He gains a little speed and tumbles through the crowd. It is like watching a drugged-up Moses parting the Red Sea. The crowd literally jumps to get out of his way.

The patron at the next table signals me to get my attention. “He forgot his bag,” he says to me, pointing to the floor under the table. I quickly go to follow him but then think twice because he has nodded off in the doorway. I will get his bag and bring it to him.

Now I have a new problem. I don’t want to touch his bag, so I go back to the bar and ask Don for the broom. As I am walking back to the table, Mitch comes up beside me. “What are you doing?” he asks. “Getting a bag that belongs to the homeless heroin addict nodding off at the front door.” It strikes me funny and I laugh. Never did I ever think I would use any of those words in a sentence to describe what I was doing during a day in my life.

Holding onto the bristles, I push the broom handle through a loop on the bag. It is rather heavy when I hoist it into the air. “Gross,” says Mitch, taking a step back. No sooner do the words get out of Mitch’s mouth than the bag breaks and scatters the contents to the floor. Mitch and I jump into the air when bottles of Jergens lotion crash to the floor, spraying everywhere. Mitch makes vomit sounds and steps back.

“Good Christ!” I scream out. I look at Don who is laughing his ass off while he watches this. “Can this night get any worse?” I scream as I drop the broom and head back to the bar. “Goddamned junkies,” I scream. I look over at the door while Don hands me some bar rags. I see that the junkie is gone; in his place stands Bob, his eyes scanning the club. When he sees me he flashes the biggest smile that not only lights up his eyes, but also lights up my heart.

“Excuse me,” I say to Don, dropping the rags on the bar. I push my way through the club to get to Bob. I deserve a little happiness — especially tonight — I think to myself. Bob is pushing his way through the crowd to get to me. The jukebox is quietly playing a Lou Reed tune. We meet halfway when Bob throws his arms around me and plants one of the most passionate kisses on me that I have ever gotten. I pause, come up for air and look into his eyes. Then I hear someone screaming, “Geoff, you fucking asshole, you’re the one dating my boyfriend?”

I look in the direction of the screaming just in time to see John standing on his bar stool, tears streaming down his face. I see him raise his arm and cock it back. The next thing I know, I get hit in the chest by a glass. Everything happens so fast. First the glass explodes on my chest and then the bar erupts into chaos. Brian, who was at the pinball machine, literally comes flying through the air out of nowhere and tackles John. Then I can see Brian repeatedly punching John in the face. John’s bloody and bruised face keeps popping up, then disappearing. Brian hits him and he crumples to the floor, so Brian picks him up off the floor and punches him again and again, repeating this until John is becoming pulp.

Bob checks to see if I’m all right, and pushes me to the side as Brian drags John past us. His bloody face is so messed up that he is now just gurgling and spit hangs from his lip. Violently dragging John down the front steps, Brian walks across the street and throws him on the ground. Rule number one is to never beat someone up and leave them in front of your club.

I push through the chaos, dragging Bob with me. I stumble down the front steps. Brian walks past me and says, “Nice job, asshole.” Across the street John is screaming, “Why?” over and over again. It is one of the most guttural cries I will ever hear in my life. I run across the street and kneel next to John who just continues to scream, “Why?”

John lifts his head and looks at me. “Why, why would you do this to me?” he screams. “I didn’t know,” I say, looking at John. “Please believe me, I didn’t know.” “Do you know what he does for a living?” John screams, spit and blood spraying the air. “Do you?” Bob takes my arm and starts to pull me away. “He’s a lawyer,” I say to John, trying to free my arm from Bob. Bob starts to pull at me harder. “He’s in fucking porn movies you ass, he’s in fucking porn.” John just screams “Why?” between sobs. I look at Bob who is shaking his head. “How the fuck did I get here?” I ask myself.

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.