I was playing my sad and pitiful blues; in the subway. I just lost a large amount on “Tommy Tune”, the greatest horse to win last night. Of course on the day I bet on the horse, he loses. I think I jinxed the horse. A few times a week I play in the tunnels. My music bouncing off the walls sounds like god is talking to me. At times I play in the tunnels because I lose to a girl or a hand. Some times to remind me where I came from. I have slept on those benches many times before. When I was too drunk to get up and make my way home. Some days, it just seems easier to just .lie out on the first bench I find.
People would watch and listen and I would play for hours. Once in a while I would feel like I played for days. The locals would drop a few dollars on my aged guitar case. I really enjoyed the times I spent underground. There was the old cat that I would see early in the wee mornings. I would call him “The Butler” Every time I would see this old man He was dressed so sharp. Shoes so shiny you could see yourself. His suits so sharp and pressed I think the suits walked him. I thought to myself no black man could be dressed for work and look so sharp unless he was a butler. He was also taking the midtown train. I guess I never thought that he could be working for himself he must work for someone very important. He always had a sharp gray or black suit. Once he had a gray blue stripe suit. He always had different color bow ties. He had salt and pepper hair. He wore a long dark coat in the winter and a sharp gentlemen’s hat that matched his long coat. Every morning he had a cup of coffee and a newspaper in his hand
Maria Markson
Project # 3
April 1, 2010
“The Butler” would listen to me play as he waited for the train. He would drop a few dollars. In my case and always smile. He would always say I wish I had music talent. He then would hand me a lotto...
No comments