I wrote this 7 years ago when I was a dumb kid. lol
Nobody tells you what those public washrooms are really for when you’re a kid.
Sitting on the curb, counting little white pop rocks. Why are there grown men sitting on the street counting candies in their hands? There are grown men in the street asking grown ladies on the street if they would like to buy a hard candy. I asked Mom if I could buy some candy, but she said it’s not for kids.
18 years later, I’m following a path of dirty candy men. My baby’s got his head stuck in a black cloud, and it’s not coming out anytime soon.
I grew up; he grew up. He bought candy; I stayed home. Nobody tells you, when you’re growing up, that candy’s not for grownups either.
They said “you’ll turn into a hooker if you buy it.” ‘Cause hookers buy candy from grown men in the street. And I don’t wanna be a hooker, so I’m not going to buy candy from grown men in the street. But my baby’s not a hooker, and he’s disappeared into Candyland. I saw him three days ago with an umbrella and a pack of smokes.
“Don’t go. PLEASE don’t go. I’ve cooked you dinner and paid the phone bill. Please….. Okay, I’ll give you my bus pass, but you’ve got to bring it back tonight, cause I have to work in the morning.”
So now I’m following a trail of crushed up, white candies; searching everywhere to find him. I don’t care about the bus pass. I don’t care that I ate dinner all by myself. I don’t even care that you never pay the phone bill. Please. Just please don’t end up like all those soulless zombies who float up and down the street.
I asked the men in the street, “have you seen Andy?” They know who Andy is. You know, Andy with the umbrella and “the hair like that”.
“No, I ain’t seen him in a while.”
But I know he’s seen Andy.
5$. Now has he seen Andy? He’s “seen Andy alright. Yea, just around there, a little while ago. Had a bag full of pens he was tryin’ to sell to the tourists who accidentally wound up down here.. heh heh..”
If I’m gonna find him, I’ve gotta be him. So 10 more dollars to this man on the street. I need some candy. I’m going to stick my head into the black cloud and see if I can find Andy in there. I told myself I’d never buy it. I’d never buy the candy from the candy men.
It was then that I found Andy. I had become Andy, and I’d like to think that I understood why Andy would disappear for days on end, and lose my bus pass, and forget to pay the phone bill, and forget to turn the lights off at night… if he went to bed at night. But no sooner did I turn into Andy did I turn back into myself, and I lost him again.
10 more dollars. I have to find Andy. I have to find Andy. I became him again. I saw the world the way Andy saw the world, but once again he disappeared so quickly, and my money disappeared so quickly. Suddenly was 3:00 AM and I was standing in the middle of the street with my boots soaking wet, pulling at my hair and shaking, while a million Andies all shuffled by me in the street.
I hailed a cab home, but realized I had spent all my money, so I shuffled, shaking, in no particular direction, hoping that I would reach home before the sun did; not even thinking that Andy might actually be waiting for me when I got back.
“You FUCKING BITCH. How the FUCK could you do this to me? Who were you with? Who were you talking to?”
He could see it in my eyes, in my demeanor; he could see where I had been and what I’d seen. Most importantly of all, he could see that I had spent the money, my money, that he had come home to get.
“Please, Andy. I’m so sorry. I swear! I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
I love Andy, and would do anything for him. I’ll search for him when he’s been missing for days. I’ll pay his bills. I’ll tell his mother he’s sick in bed when I’m terrified he’s dead in an alleyway. I’ll do it all for him, because one day, maybe one day, I’ll save him, and he’ll love me, and he’ll thank me for everything I did for him. Then I’ll be happy.
“I have more money. We’ll go together.”
This story isn’t about DTES crack addiction. It’s about failing to accept the futility of a relationship.