“Angry and Homeless” by David Rutigliano
Met a French guy the other night at the bar and he told me he rather liked New York. Of course you do, I said, France kinda sucks in a weird way. He looked up from his drink and matted his beard down several times as if he were mulling over his own existence, then he downed his beer and went out to smoke.
Upon his return, I apologized about France. The man told me not to worry about it, he said France did suck but that it was great at one point. I said the same about New York from what I’ve heard about the earlier years. The sun had just started dipping behind the buildings and the light broke apart in weird lines down Rivington street in the Lower East Side. A small hispanic man walked with a child by his side that seemed to be his son, the older man’s hunched posture seem suggest wisdom and years of hard labor while the young man next to him walked with his chest leading him, full of confidence.
Both angry and homeless, France and I both drank with conviction.