Wednesday, April 9, 2014

We Can Handle This With No Problems (Twenty-Four years Old, Anthony Battles, Vietnam Veteran) 1974

So I walked into the neighborhood bar with my new lady.  Why?  Because I knew the brothahs would be gawkin at the Sweet Sistah that I just hooked up with and things were goin for three months now quite copacetic...that is, up until we walked into the neighborhood joint of note.  As soon as we crossed the threshold I saw movement from the back where the pool tables are situated, and where I made myself a lot of damn money, but anyway, she and I had just gotten settled in and was just about ready to sit down and order when that movement from the back started becoming more pronounced.

It was Floyd Washam, in the hood his sobriquet was "Flo," and I said to him, "Whatcha no good Flo?"  Flo wasn't lookin too well and still with a pool stick in his hand.

"Pookie man, what chew doin with my lady?"  Flo asked.

I looked at Sheila and all that I saw was the top of her head.  No help there.  So I knew ol' Flo was tellin me the truth.

"Well don't that beat all," I said.  I always keep a Bo Silver Dollar in my pocket for luck sake so I knew just how to rectify this situation.  I took it out.  I flipped it in the air and Flo watched it go up and me catch it in my right hand and put it on the back of my left hand.

"Heads or tails Flo?"  I asked.

"Whah?"  Flo now looking at me perplexed but no longer trying to stare darts into Sheila's eyes.

"I asked you, heads or tails, turkay?"  I said good heartedly.

Flo still in a daze says,"Heads I guess."

I peeked at the coin which I had previously covered with my right hand which the coin set atop the back of my left hand and it was tails all day long.

"Flo, it's your lucky day.  She's all yours,"  I said.  I winked at him and made my way out of the nightspot.

Got in my red 1969 Oldsmobile 442 and drove to another spot three miles west where I got fitfully high.

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