November 9, 2021 - Skyline Deli & Grocery
The first time I was arrested I was arrested for stealing a big bag of Doritos from the corner store on 45th and 9th. I had stolen things from the store before; the owner knew me. His name was Guy, and he and I talked a lot. Especially at night. Guy said he liked working the night shift because that’s when he could think; also, it was a good time to get away from his wife and kids. “Sometimes . . .” Guy would say after a long sigh, “I can’t anymore. I just can’t.” I’d say encouraging things, like Man, I get it ––– I really do. And I think this helped Guy out, at least a little.
He was in his fifties and he said he had lived in Atlanta, Georgia for twenty years, but he and his wife moved to New York ten years ago. She had a job that gave her a promotion, but the promotion meant they’d have to move. It was more money, but because New York is so expensive, it was the same amount of money. Guy and his gal -–– her name is Diona ––– didn’t figure this out until she had already said yes to her boss and put their house on the market down there. The whole thing is sad. She was commuting between the two places for a lot of months because the kids needed to finish the school year. By the time they leased a place down in the Financial District, and paid the broker and first month’s rent and security and everything, they were already tight for cash. Shit sucks. Guy told me the whole thing a couple of times.
Diona is still with the same company, which is crazy. They sell fashion to designers, or something like that. The type of people who drop bookoo bucks on something simple, like a scarf ––– like $795 for a scarf, or even a G. So they were living in New York, and not making the kind of money they were making in Atlanta, so Guy got to thinking about ways he could pull in some cash, and then he got nostalgic about his granddad who used to own a corner store in the south –––– Memphis, I think ––– and that gave him the idea to open the store. It’s not called Guys. I think it’s called something basic –––– Skyline Deli & Grocery ––– or something like that.
The night I got arrested was crazy. Guy and I were just talking and hanging out as usual. I mean, I was in the store and kicking it with Guy. Whenever there’d be a dead moment and no customers or anything, we’d start talking again. He’d ask me about my life, and I wouldn’t tell him anything really, which was cool. Guy and I were friends, but not real good friends. He usually would do the talking, since I was better at listening. So at like three in the morning, I tell Guy that I’m about to head out, and I walk back through the store a couple more times, just to look. And yeah, I snatched up a big bag of Doritos and put it under my coat, but like I said, Guy and I were cool. Next thing you know I’m walking down the street outside the store, and two officers run up on me with their guns drawn. It was crazy. One of them walked around me, put the cuffs on me, and then pushed me to the ground. Then the other one put his knee in me. Those motherfuckers. I remember looking up at the shop window to see if Guy was in there and looking, but he wasn’t. He probably went to the back since he didn’t want to see me get jumped by the cops. He probably felt bad about the whole thing. On one hand I get it, I was stealing things from his store, but on other hand, it’s bullshit ––––– cause me and Guy were cool. And if he had a problem with me, he could have just said something.
Guy’s place was across the street from my mom’s place, but I don’t live with my mom anymore. I live with my uncle, her brother, Paul ––– in Syracuse ––– the sticks. The deal is, I don’t have to go to jail if I live with Paul and go to these drug rehab classes every Wednesday and Thursday night for the next six months. The thing is, I never stole from Guy’s because of the cocaine. The cocaine was just something to fool around with, since I didn’t have a job in the city, and since it made talking to girls easy. I miss talking to girls; and I miss the city; and I miss how easy it was to take those girls back to my mom’s place, show them the view from the roof and everything, and then go back to my bedroom and smash. Syracuse is alright though. Paul’s got a big place, and his son doesn’t ask me a lot of questions. I don’t really miss anyone more than I miss Guy.
