The Wednesday Streets of East Philly: story one - Young Dog Trap
by, 21 Sep 2011 at 04:47 PM (8775 Views)
When I grew up, we ate cheesesteak, root for the Eagles, watched Fresh Prince, and went down the corner to see what Dog Trap was up to. Of course, back then he was called Skirt Cone. We were ten.
Skirt was a middle child of eight and he talked like it. He knew everything and he was loud. And when he was funny, he was funny. But we only got to see him every other year, before he'd wear his moms out and she'd pack him up and send him to his dad in Red Hook, who it turn only put up with him for about a year before shipping him back. That was the routine.
He was a clown, clownin' on the teachers, clownin' on girls, clownin' on everybody, everybody but his moms, she'd send his ass to Red Hook!
So, after hitting up the ice cream truck for TMNT popcicles WITH BUBBLE GUM EYES!, my friend Matty and I, we ran down to the corner of the block to Skirt's place. As usual, there were about four other neighborhood kids down there, eating ice pops, playing Heavy D on walkmans, and trading turtles for football cards. Skirt had a basement apartment with a stoop that went up to the sidewalk. And that spring, you could find him every afternoon there, leaning on the rail, headphones on, listening to Digital Underground, watching the ladies and high school girls pass by as they got out of class. For a while, no one ever noticed a couple kids looking up at you. Hell, the streets were loud with the construction going on other side of the block!
But then this one Tuesday, Ava, our Puerto Rican buddy Junior's older sister, passed by. She was in the 11th grade and was smoking hot! with long, curly black hair, a big ass, and tits she liked to show off in tight, pink tank tops. And, here she came, strolling by in a new neon summer dress, with black sunshades, book bag tossed over her right shoulder, and a vanilla ice cream cone she got from the truck in her other hand.
Well, I guess looking wasn't enough anymore, for Skirt leaned his head out between the rail further than usual, and right when she was above him, right when he had a perfect sight of the panties he claimed her not to be wearing, he called out, "Hey baby, you got some of that cone for me?" ...and he smiled real big.
She screamed! dropped her bag and kicked him in the head, "You little pervert!" sending the headphones flying!
She took her cone and like Steve Carlton nailed him right between the eyes! He just laughed and she groaned, grabbing the fat kid's ice pop and throwing it at him. She then picked up her bag and walked off.
One of the kids told everyone in school by the next day, and the name stuck, Skirt Cone. It must have been Memo, because later in the week when Memo was talking to the kid behind him, Skirt light a smoke bomb and tossed in his desk.
The teacher did not find it funny.
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