My lawyer Preston tells me that I am the Patron Saint of hustlers. Yes, they come to my basilica of Our Lady of the Streets looking for comfort, food and money. They think that I can wash away their sins with the holy water of my lust. They also want some kind of sexual fulfillment as they struggle with their sexual identity looking for validation. Most of these guys are really losers. Most of them are as dim witted and dumb as shit. But they have a certain charm, a very basic sensuality that comes through and makes them desirable.
But Chunky was different. I spotted him sitting on a bus bench and he even looked like he was waiting for the bus. If I didn’t know the neighborhood I would swear that is exactly what he was doing. I drove twice and he looked. He was somewhat aloof, so I drove by one more time and this time he and I really locked eyes; then a faint smile appeared on his face. I then drove around the corner and he actually got up from the bench and started to walk towards the corner. I saw it in the rear view mirror and instead of stopping halfway down the block to wait for him, I went around one more time and when I was on the street as he was about to cross the alley, I stopped the car and rolled down the window. He came over and he said: “what are you up to?” “I’m just cruising around looking for some action”. I answered.