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The beginning chapter 2: October 13th-14th 2016
The Don and I arrived in Bronx, NY to a warm welcome from Dat Beau a living symbol of the freedom I sought in life wrapped in the American flag scarf he was wearing. The city immediately became a fortress and shield from the outside world and the demons of my past for a time. They were soon to come to me in the form of alcoholism. We walked along an empty Tremont Ave on foot. It was desolate. metal doors and gates covering entry to every closed business along the road...it was a completely different vibe up here. There was no sense of danger which confused me. It was a lot to soak in following everything else I’ve experienced in life directing me to this very point in the universe. Upon returning to the car Dat Beau treated us to White Castle we then drove to a local apartment to pick up some green and rolled up in the parking lot we were to crash in that night. We awoke the next morning to a residual buzz and vehicles pulling into the employee parking lot. I was nervous to say the least the inspiring hope barely standing up to the anxiety. In the office we met the secretary an Italian mother like figure with a comforting demeanor, a great deal of knowledge, and a love for online quizzes in her downtime at work. The kind of woman you want to hug when leaving after even your first meeting. Thankfully when met with the impromptu interviews the boss was loveable though strong willed and intimidating which was to be expected given the discipline and strength to attain such success. Wrapping up the interview and returning to Dat Beau's office we started rolling through exhilarating prospects NYC proposed. The city has already left its mark on me: this city had personality like I've never seen.
I lost the car part one: The scene is set with the sun having gone down on Webster Avenue at a local Spanish bar. With the car parked God began the lesson through Dat Beau: “remember where you parked.” “Alright, bro!” Laughing and brushing off the warning believing we would still be together by the end of the night. It was an early start to the night drinking beer with las chicas y mis amigos. Sadly I couldnot be satisfied with anything always seeking more and more. The last I saw Dat Beau that night he was surly and my temper flared outside the bar as I spit wrath at him saying: “I will destroy you!” (for the pittance of money spent on my part expecting more from the night) with a calm almost smarmy smile he responded: “you could never destroy me Codey not in a million years”.
I’m surprised no one told me to “watch out there’s alcohol over there”. All of this selfishness and ego driven childishness after saving a mans life just a few blocks
away: I stood in line at a Spanish food truck on Webster as a man stumbled between parked cars behind me crying and complaining his chest was hurting. With no response from the others standing by I was moved and walked up to him asking him “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”. “I’m coming off of alcohol and my chest hurts.” Crying and clasping his chest. So i called 911 and within minutes they arrived and took him to safety. I wrote this feeling good for the little I had
done and something to offset the evil but realized my righteousness is as filthy rags. Ouch. I walked into a corner market down a side street off Webster Avenue screaming “f**** NYC!” the pride in me refusing to die. It was a horribly childish scene. A girl met me outside smoking a cigar so I asked for a drag. “Breathing in the tobacco I responded with “wth is this?” “It’s that dust.” “Oh, great!” It had the taste you would expect from smoking flowers leaving me!
I think I’m either gonna go crazy or not feel anything. Thankfully it only calmed me down. “PCP ain’t shit!” I thought as we walked down the back streets looking for another story. A man ran up to us selling a gold ring which I promptly bought for $13 should have known something was up...it was made of copper and glass. Lesson learned stick to the main roads. Eventually I got sketched and ran away from her back to the main road to find that Dat Beau and Cello had left and I was broke with no way to find my car. Took a nap in the Dunkin’ Donuts and decided to make that walk back to Dat Beau’s crib. Another 5 miles on top of the night of walking up and down every street to Grand Concourse and back to find it on the first try the next day with Dat Beau and Cello the Don. I was so spiritually blind I thought I had done good that night by not letting a man die. Praise God for His Love and Mercy .
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