The Streets (Part 2)

According to my weekly email which tracks website statistics, I now have 0 visitors to this website per week. That's pretty bad. It means that I'm basically writing for myself, but I imagine that someday when I become very famous, people will regard this blog in the same light as Anne Frank's diary or Captain Kirk's Log. I betthat when they got their start these diary heroes had 0 visitors per week as well.

Here is the conclusion to my "The Street's Story"

"Easy Street"

When last we left our hero (me), I was standing out on the sidewalk in front of Irving Place, feeling very sad. I had just blown 50 bucks on a fake ticket and realized that the 10 dollars left in my pocket probably weren't gonna get me in to see Dizzee and The Streets. At this point, a kid wearing a red shirt walked up to me and asked:

"Got an extra ticket?"

In my mind, I imagined a sinister plan. He wouldn't know the ticket was a fake. This was my chance. I would sell him the dud, at a small loss and then buy a real ticket with the proceeds.

"You are in luck!" I told him.

He was not in luck.

"Oh yeah, you got one?

"Well, I've got this ticket here," but at this point my conscience set in. I couldn't sell him the ticket with him thinking it was real. But I had another plan, "Well, it's a fake ticket, but do you wanna buy it."

The red shirted kid did not think that he wanted to buy the fake ticket but thanks anyway, and I was back to square zero. Standing outside the venue, I began to go through my options. As I saw it, there were four feasible courses of action I could take:

1. Climb on to the roof of this three story building and then see what happened.
2. Try to sneak in.
3. Beg the bouncer to let me in.
4. Buy a ticket for 10 bucks.

Well after being told I couldn't sneak in, I wasn't exactly on the bouncers good side, leaving option 4. Amazingly, an opportunity materialized before my eyes, as a girl walked by offering to sell the ticket at face value (20 dollars). Suddenly though, a scalper (whose name, I came to know was Alfonzo) swooped in with a 20 and was about to buy it from her.

"Wait!" I screamed, "Don't buy it from him. He just wants to resell it. I actually want to see the show! He's a bad guy, I'm a good guy!"

Alfonzo did not like this. Not at all.

"Shut up man!" he told me. Oh, did I mention that Alfonzo is a 6'6" very strong black man. Then he put forth a very bizzare threat:

"I'm gonna give you a wedgie man! I'm gonna give you a wedgie in front of all your friends"

I will never understand Alfonzo's threat, but I think he had a rough childhood.

The girl, by the way, frightened by this confrontation ran away quickly to find a calmer customer.

At this point, a miracle happened. A man standing there had seen what I had been through, and he called me over. At first I feared that he wanted me over there so that he could have front row seats for the wedgie of the century, but he then pulled a ticket out of his pocket.

"You wanna see the show?" he asked.

Why, yes thankyou, but i didn't exactly have enough money.

"I'll make you a deal" uh oh "I'll give it to you for nothing"

I really couldn't think of a way to repay him, so I just told him that something good would happen to him because of this, and I think it probably has.

Inside I saw the red-shirted kid, who told me that he had found someone with a real ticket and bought it for $75. I told him I had found someone with a ticket and bought it for free, so red-shirted kid, it seems had been beaten by 25 dollars, and he knew it. Then the red-shirted kid said something really sad:

"Guess what! I found 25 dollars on the floor"

I offered him congratulations on his good fortune, and settled on a spot on the floor to stand and watch the show next to him.

Well, the show was good, and Mike blew the roof off the place. What really struck me as awesome was that he had a live band playing all his songs with him. For anyone that's listened to The Streets this would be amazing, but as I've already established, nobody reads this thing anyway.

After the show, people were starting to clear out, and I noticed the red-shirted kid going over to buy a t-shirt. The price was right, 25 dollars.

Epilogue: "Life on the Streets"

As I got off the subway and started for my apartment, a police car drove up on the sidewalk and missed hitting me by about a foot. I was understandably scared, and I demanded of the police officer to know what was happening.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed at me, and I was quickly reminded of Alfonso.

"Excuse me, I just want to know if it's safe for me to be out here"

He then hurled a string of expletives at me, and ran down the stairs of the subway. A squad of about 50 cop cars roared down the various streets around me, so I figured it was time to get out of there. The entire way home, I saw a cop car prowling every owling, lights on searching for something.

At first, this troubled me. What could possibly have posed such a threat that it such a valiant force. Then it hit me. They were after the scalpers that had taken my 50 bucks. They were searching every nook and cranny to catch those con artists and restore justice to the mean streets of New York City.

I walked along the sidewalk and crossed the street in front of my apartment, as a novel thought crossed my mind:

50 bucks don't come for free.