every time I counted my cash, thoughts of a second job jumped into my head. The idea made me want to throw the bedroom lamp out the window. I didn’t know where Danny wanted to go that night but it didn’t much matter. I couldn’t even afford the movies. I sat on the bed, gazing into my closet, thinking again about Danny’s clothes.
He wasn’t flashy, but I wondered how he financed the upgrade. Maybe his wardrobe caught my attention because three years ago he dressed one step up from homeless. It’s not like I knew the first thing about fashion. The clothes probably weren’t half as expensive as I thought. But that didn’t explain where Danny got his money.
Most of my clothes that weren’t for work were either grad school leftovers or bought at the thrift store around the corner. Maybe that’s what got to me: maybe I was just jealous. I tossed my wallet on the bed. Forget the cash to go anywhere cool that night. Even if I did have it, I certainly didn’t have the clothes.
Wearing my ratty jeans and the same wrinkled dress shirt, I walked into the kitchen, where Danny was drinking one of my last Cherry Cokes and peering into the freezer.
“Four Cherry Cokes, two pounds of coffee, and a huge box of Oreos.” He turned to me, looking concerned. “Have you even been to a grocery store since I last saw you? You certainly haven’t gained any weight.”
“Like I want this grief,” I said, opening the balcony doors.
Danny joined me outside. “You realize you’ve got a Weber grill in your living room.”
I sat in the chair. Danny leaned against the railing, his back to the street. The way that railing was bent and rusted, I’d never had the nerve. Danny didn’t seem to care. He threw a glance at the corner. It wasn’t half as busy in the daylight.
“If I leave the grill outside,” I said, “there’s not enough room to sit. The smoke just blows back into the house anyway. I don’t remember why I bought it in the first place.”
“It is a great view,” Danny said, looking over at Manhattan.
“It’s a quiet place to sit and think,” I said.
Right then, the couple living two houses down burst out of their front door. The woman screamed from the porch steps as the man, beer bottle in hand, stomped away from her and toward his car.
“Yeah, peaceful and serene,” Danny said as the screaming continued, now in Spanish.
Before he got in the car, the man turned, yelled something in Italian, and threw the beer bottle. It smashed on the step at the woman’s feet, spraying her bare ankles with glass. She laughed and flipped him off as he drove away. She spat on the cracked walkway before running back into the house. Maxie howled in his yard.
“Tony and Maria,” I said. “He must’ve started his bender early. Or maybe he got fired again. They usually don’t get really cranked up until Sunday afternoon.”
“Tony and Maria?” Danny asked. “You’re not serious.”
“Not entirely,” I said. “That’s what I call them. I don’t know who they are. Unless they really are named Puta and Cabron .”
“Please tell me they don’t have kids, at least,” Danny said.
“She had one,” I said. “The city took it away not long after Tony moved in. I heard she’s pregnant again—with Tony’s brother’s kid. I think that’s what they’re always fighting about. Four years in this neighborhood, I’ve picked up some Spanish. And Italian. And Polish. It’s very multicultural here.”
“Fucking savages,” Danny said, scowling at Tony and Maria’s house. “That kid’ll never know nothing but pain. And turn out just like them.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I said. “She’s young, maybe this time it’ll be different, whoever the father is.”
“Bullshit,” Danny said. “That dog across the street? He probably got his balls cut off before he was three months old. But those animals two doors down can crank out as many kids as they want and no one says boo.” He took a deep breath.
He wasn’t flashy, but I wondered how he financed the upgrade. Maybe his wardrobe caught my attention because three years ago he dressed one step up from homeless. It’s not like I knew the first thing about fashion. The clothes probably weren’t half as expensive as I thought. But that didn’t explain where Danny got his money.
Most of my clothes that weren’t for work were either grad school leftovers or bought at the thrift store around the corner. Maybe that’s what got to me: maybe I was just jealous. I tossed my wallet on the bed. Forget the cash to go anywhere cool that night. Even if I did have it, I certainly didn’t have the clothes.
Wearing my ratty jeans and the same wrinkled dress shirt, I walked into the kitchen, where Danny was drinking one of my last Cherry Cokes and peering into the freezer.
“Four Cherry Cokes, two pounds of coffee, and a huge box of Oreos.” He turned to me, looking concerned. “Have you even been to a grocery store since I last saw you? You certainly haven’t gained any weight.”
“Like I want this grief,” I said, opening the balcony doors.
Danny joined me outside. “You realize you’ve got a Weber grill in your living room.”
I sat in the chair. Danny leaned against the railing, his back to the street. The way that railing was bent and rusted, I’d never had the nerve. Danny didn’t seem to care. He threw a glance at the corner. It wasn’t half as busy in the daylight.
“If I leave the grill outside,” I said, “there’s not enough room to sit. The smoke just blows back into the house anyway. I don’t remember why I bought it in the first place.”
“It is a great view,” Danny said, looking over at Manhattan.
“It’s a quiet place to sit and think,” I said.
Right then, the couple living two houses down burst out of their front door. The woman screamed from the porch steps as the man, beer bottle in hand, stomped away from her and toward his car.
“Yeah, peaceful and serene,” Danny said as the screaming continued, now in Spanish.
Before he got in the car, the man turned, yelled something in Italian, and threw the beer bottle. It smashed on the step at the woman’s feet, spraying her bare ankles with glass. She laughed and flipped him off as he drove away. She spat on the cracked walkway before running back into the house. Maxie howled in his yard.
“Tony and Maria,” I said. “He must’ve started his bender early. Or maybe he got fired again. They usually don’t get really cranked up until Sunday afternoon.”
“Tony and Maria?” Danny asked. “You’re not serious.”
“Not entirely,” I said. “That’s what I call them. I don’t know who they are. Unless they really are named Puta and Cabron .”
“Please tell me they don’t have kids, at least,” Danny said.
“She had one,” I said. “The city took it away not long after Tony moved in. I heard she’s pregnant again—with Tony’s brother’s kid. I think that’s what they’re always fighting about. Four years in this neighborhood, I’ve picked up some Spanish. And Italian. And Polish. It’s very multicultural here.”
“Fucking savages,” Danny said, scowling at Tony and Maria’s house. “That kid’ll never know nothing but pain. And turn out just like them.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I said. “She’s young, maybe this time it’ll be different, whoever the father is.”
“Bullshit,” Danny said. “That dog across the street? He probably got his balls cut off before he was three months old. But those animals two doors down can crank out as many kids as they want and no one says boo.” He took a deep breath.
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