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I'M SORRY CHILD'S

#friendship #story #book #shortstory

Men live by a simple rules which we all know and live by. If we're boyz then the rules get even simpler to abide by.


Some, but not all of these rules are in place to prevent one thing, physical violence.

Like lions in the animal kingdom. In tense situations noise and posturing is used and much more preferred by both sides than violence.


Men are strong. even against another man, one could get seriously hurt, embarrassed from a loss, or an escalation could occur that which some get completely out of control.

In the words of a great man, "Testosterone is a hell of a drug."


Say if I bumped into some guy on the street one day. Neither him nor I want's to say yo I'm sorry. But neither of us wants to back down. It'll all comes down to what the person who speaks first says. And if for whatever reason I'm that person who speaks first.


Whatever I say can't come across as weak (unless he's with a girl. In that case, the rule is for the one without a girl is the one who has to say he's sorry first). But if we're both alone, instead of simply saying 'excuse me' or 'I'm sorry'. The apology would have to sound tough. So I'd say something like, 'pardon self' or 'my bad'.


In that case, the rule is that the other dude would then have to back down.

The key for men is to keep things simple.


But that can be far more difficult for two males who are friends, because now, feelings are involved. I don't mean those mooshie kind of feelings (Well actually that's exactly what I mean. But men aren't supposed to have those types of feelings for one another).

The rules between men are never more important than when it comes to male relationships.


The rules apply not only is the threat of violence around. Now 'feelings' and 'penalties' for breaking the rules get far more harsh. Especially when a girl is involved.

Keep it simple.


Guys can be best friends for years without even knowin each other's first or last names by heart. So was the case between me an my boy Child's.


Child's was one of the first cool cats I'd met hanging out on the streets of Manhattan. I was selling weed at this time and he used to 'cop' from me from time to time.


Child's is Pureto Rican. Around my age, 21,22 yrs. old. He's a Latin King. Always in yellow and black clothes. Always wore a yellow or black bandana, or do rag. And always had a yellow or black rosary beads around his neck.


Like I said, he's cool. And we clicked. For guys, that's all we need for friendship.

At first he used to cop and keep it moving. Then he got cool wit some of the same peoples I know on the block. Then, after a while, instead of leaving after he bought a bag, he'd stick around with his boys. Which were my boys. And that's how we became boys.


Child's and I liked the same things. And on the same mission. Girls, girls, girls. We were always on the hunt for whatever passed by. Pretty much the only difference between him an me was I don smoke weed. But we both drink. So we'd always go in half on a bottle or som'm.


We keep it simple.


The more time goes by. The more shit we get into together. Gettin girls, havin each other's back while beefin wit som'body, gettin locked up together. The tighter we get.

Around the last time he called, it'd been several months since I've heard from Child's. By this time, I've moved to BK and kinda lost track wit him.


Over the phone he'd told me he'd been in Jersey livin wit some chick out there. He also told me that he was on his way to central bookings. Calling me from the phone in one of the precincts in Midtown. Said he got picked up on the humble over some dumb shit from way back. He also said him and the chick he was stayin wit had just came into the city to chill. When soon after arrivin is when he got knocked. And that she's in Midtown by herself now and that her bus did not leave till like 4 in the mornin. He asked me to go down there and chill with her till her bus arrived.


This couldn't have been the worst time. An even older friend of mine who i ain't seen in a while either is at my place. After some proddin from him I agreed to smoke some bud wit him to celebrate his new baby on the way. Now I'm high as hell. All the way in Brooklyn and dont wanna move cause the weed gettn to me.


But that's my boy. So I had to say yes. And before his time on the jack ran out he told me he'd given his girl my number, and that she'll be callin me at eleven.


Now I'm sittin here hopin the chick don't call. I'm on a lazy high and dreaded a 45 min. train ride into the city to babysit some chick.


But sure enough at 11:05 I get a call from the chick and she told me the same story. The whole time she's talkin I'm thinkin of a way to get out of this thing. When she finished I was was just like 'Look ma, I can't come. I got company and can't leave. She took it well and said it's ok, don't worry about it, she'll be fine, then I said goodbye.


But then I started feelin real bad about doin my boy Child's like this and feared him feelin some type of way from now on once he got the word. So I call the chick back, told her I was on my way. She sounded relieved.

I get down to 42nd street at like 12:30 an we meet up outside the Port Authority. We greeted with half a hug once we recognize one another from our descriptions we gave over the phone.


I have know idea what to do with this chick. I wanna be back home so bad. I'm just like 'fuck it'. I'll just do the same thing Child's was gonna do. Walk her around Midtown till we got tired then head to the bus station to wait on her bus in the waiting room the got downstairs.


I see a hotdog stand on the corner an I'm like, 'you hungry'? She says yeah so I buy her and myself a hotdog and a soda then we start walking down 4 deuce.


It's like early October so it's still warm. 42nd's all lit it and crowded like it usually is at this time. I'm hatin every minute of it.


luckily she's a talker, a big one. Even with her mouth full. Thankfully (for once) I don't have say anything, just pretend to listen.


The deeper you get into 42nd the brighter the lights get. After a few blocks is when I get my first good impression of her as far as looks.


My first impression is how much older she looks than me and Child’s. She look like mid 30ish and may have noticed me studying her house while tryin to determine an age. She launches into the story of how her and my dude met, and on the first time she saw him was one night he an some of his goons that he'd brought from NY, came to her house in Jersey. They were there to settle an old score wit some 'lame' he'd beefed wit from back in the day. She said she was impressed with how 'this young NY nigga handled himself'. And that's when she started to like him.


We head down Broadway which is lit up just as brighter as 42nd street.