No Dogs - No Bikes - No Carriages
Posted by Rob | Filed under All Drawings, New York, USA & Canada
Central Park, Jackie O lake and the place where John Lennon got shot. The marks on the floor are the footsteps of the runners around the lake.
He nodded, and lifted a loose step to reveal a collection of tiny little bags. I told him I wanted the smallest size. It was $20. I gave him money and he gave me a small plastic bag, clear as daylight. Even though his communication only ranged from a head nod to twenty dollars, he seemed nice. I don’t think he wants to deal drugs, and I really don’t think he does drugs. I think he has a daughter. He might be on bad terms with the mother, but I imagine the little girl running up to him and squeezing him. I can imagine him going around the city with her. They probably stay in Brooklyn. I can hear him explaining rules to her.
Daddy, why?
It is dangerous, sweetie. The sign is there for a reason. See all the broken glass.
I’m sure he sells some drugs on the weekend just to buy make rent or maybe save for her college, or maybe he is a part of some really nice people drug train. Almost like the free trade coffee, but nice trade cocaine. I put my hand in my pocket to and the bag is so exactly made. Do they have bags made especially for cocaine? I haven’t seen a bag like this for other products, and I can’t imagine ever needing sugar or flour in a bag this small.
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