Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Gypsies

I typed in “gypsy” in Google and this is one of the first images to show up. Oddly enough this actually looks just like one of the people in the family of gypsies that have occupied my, ahem, fair city ever since I start living here. When I first started working in the porn shop I was told by a manager to “watch them.” It didn’t take long for me to figure out why.

They had a whole routine that they would do. Let me set the scene for you. Mom would come in (full head wrap and everything) and head for the snacks. Yes there were snacks in the porn shop. She would linger at the snacks while her son and daughter would scramble like fighter jets and head to the magazines. And like there was a silent whistle they would depart at the same time. Couldn’t prove anything yet but you knew the store was looted.

One day when I went to Ralph’s I saw the boy. He looked like a rodent. The mom still haunts the neighborhood pushing some old man around and leaving him at the donut shop for a few hours. And the daughter? Damn her. I see her everywhere I go. She hangs in the store. She wanders the neighborhood limping like a weirdo. Oh, she limps because she broke her leg years ago and took her cast off early. One day a customer shared a very interesting story with me and a co-worker.

Customer: “You know about her?”

Me: “I know she steals.”

Customer: “What about the bird shop?”

Co-Worker: “What bird shop?”

Me: “The one up the street?”

Customer: “Yeah. She turns tricks there.”

Me & Co-Worker: “What?!”

Customer: “For about $40 she has sex. Even when the shop is open.”

Me & Co-Worker: “Ew!”

Customer: “I know! Now you know why she walks the way she does.”

Me: “She broke her leg.”

Customer: “Bless her heart.”

Me: “Bless something…”

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