Still Working On The English
On the corner pressed up against his work with his back to the street the man with a 4 inch brush stroked aluminum paint from left to right across the galvanized security shutters. A constant flow of humanity passed behind him, every other person pushing a baby carriage and every other carriage containing groceries. Some, those without babies or groceries, stopped to talk. One man told him he had paint in his house and that he used gasoline to clean his brushes. A woman told him he should rub the shutters down with grease so the graffiti wouldn't stick to it. Another man ask him for a job. The owner brought him an espresso. When he moved his drop cloths he covered up a wad of spit. A Puerto Rican man said he should have Mexicans doing his painting for him. The man, himself an American, was unclear about why he should do that. A little banger walking by with a group of shorties said he could do a better job and the man said next time you will. Another banger walked by and said, oh that look nice, and the man turned to briefly glance at this other man who he guessed would be the first one to tag the shiny new surface. And everyone wanted him to know his effort would not stop the vandals. He agreed it would not but mostly he didn't care whether it did or didn't. He just wished the taggers would take a little more pride in their work. He didn't paint over tags that showed heart. But Joey, come on Joey, maybe you can't do better but you should try. The man earlier in the week had removed with lacquer thinner Joey from a blue metal door up in the next block. The Puerto Rican man came by again and pointing said you missed a spot. A deluded man rushing along said come on, you the owner, you should let people from the neighborhood do your work. A fellow heading towards Delancey said he would do it for free and the man said, I'm doing it for free, but he was not being sincere. That great majority that didn't address him, moved along the sidewalk speaking in Spanish or Chinese. Two Chinese men did speak to him though, one asking directions by pointing to an address on a piece of paper and the other asking if restaurant open. No open he said to the one man and looking at the paper held by the other man he did a double arcing motion with his silver splattered hand and pointed west, hoping this elderly man would find the nearby Suffolk St. In the future, in the unlikely event anyone ever ask him if he spoke Chinese, he would say, a little.
View current page
...more recent posts