Joe is a pretty important guy
Joe owns the comic book shop across the street at where I work.
“Hey?”
“Huh?”
“I went into Joe’s comic book shop to get a candy bar.”
“That’s nice. Shall I call the newspaper?”
“Fucking guy wanted to charge me an arm and a leg.”
I picked up the binoculars to see if the bald headed girl is working. She has a nice ass and wears half shirts which show off her flat belly.
No such luck.
“Joe has a kid sweeping out front of his place.”
“Gimme the glasses.” I hand over the binoculars.
After a while I hear: “Get a load of this.”
I take the glasses and have a look. Joe is out there sweeping and the kid, maybe nine years old, is leaning against the wall watching Joe sweep the sidewalk. This goes on for a couple of minutes and then Joe takes out a handkercheif and wipes down the sweat from his bald head and then walks over to the kid and hands him the broom. Joe points to the sidewalk and walks back into the store.
Joe is a pretty important guy. Sometimes they ask him to sing the National Anthem at the local ball games and he gets on television. I’ve seen his picture in the local paper.
The kid watches Joe go into the book store and then he begins hitting the sidewalk with the broom. A guy in a wheelchair has to go around all of it.
And I hand the binoculars back. Now we are both laughing. The guy in the wheelchair is giving the kid a ration of shit and Joe comes running out of the comic book store. The wheelchair guy rolls away and Joe starts showing the kid, again, how to sweep the sidewalk.
I can just hear the pillow talk at night:
“The boy needs to learn how to work, sweets. Take him to your shop and put him to work.”
“Yes, darling.”
“How did the boy do?”
“Fine.”
“Wonderful, dear. Take him back next week.”
Sure enough, the kid is back the next week watching Joe show him how to use the broom.
