AUGUST 5, 1979 - EAST VILLAGE
No sign of Hakkim on East 10th Street, but the two young boys, Flacco and Manny, warned, "He ain't done with you. Hakkim a stone cold junkie, but he's stone cold baddd too."
"Fuck him. I fucked him up once. Next time will be worst," I boasted,but walked around the ower East Side looking over my shoulder, especailly in the morning taking Alice to work at the yogurt shop.
Last night Rick Guadacanal, the Heartbreakers' roadie, turned me onto cocaine. We snorted blow in CBGBs toilet. Cocaine is everywhere in New York City and the USA. Last month I dealt a little. It's easy money, if you keep your nose out of stash, a feat for men stronger than me.
Living on East 10th Street means cooking at home instead of eating at Greek diners, although there's nothing like bacon, eggs, and toast at the Kiev after a night of punk music.
This morning I woke up in a hospital. The only time I stayed overnight was at birth.
May 29, 1952.
Sixty-nine years ago.
It's forty-two yeasrs upstream from my first days at that apartment at 256 East 10th Street. Alice is living in LA with her husband. I haven't told her that I'm ailing; my blood count in low after expelling the bloodfrom my stomach, my blood sugar count was 450, and the doctors have scheduled an ultra-sound for tomorrow.
With all the tubes in me, I can't move around too much. Just to the toilet. I called Guadacanal to keep him the loop. I had visited the punk guitarist in Jersey City during his COVID quarantine. He was now home with his wife in Kansas City. Rick listened to the news and said, "Don't worry, you'll be fine. I got what you probably have ten years ago. Medicine has advanced since then."
"Yeah, right," I said with the enthusiasm of a hypochondriac. My belief in eternal life had been challenged by the fact that I was wore a shameful 'johnny'.
"You'll be out soon enough, but no more drinking."
"No more, unless the doctors tell me to get my affairs in orefr, then it's back to the 169 to Dylan Thomas body and soul. THe poet had drunk himself to death at the Whitehorse tavern.
Oh, the glory.I researched on the internet for John Thunders.
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