OFF THE RECORD: HOMEBOY

Him: You remember homeboy?..

Her: Who?

Him: Homeboy, the crackhead that had the blue car from up the block.. he was a crackhead.

Her:Lol.. yea I know homeboy. That nigga would let anybody drive that car. He was a crackhead?

Him: Hell yea! he was a crackhead. He had his shit together though. lol.. I think he worked for the embassy or some shit. That moffucka had diplomat plates on the car and would be doing all types of shit. Parking anywhere, making all types of U-turns and shit.. never get pulled over.

Her: Hell yea.. He let us hold that little piece of shit one night it was like 5 of us packed in there. Ron gave homeboy like 5 rocks and he threw us the keys. lol.. We pulled off sooofass lol... At this point it's like 4 in the morning and we in the Bronx somewhere trynna find something to eat. Matter fact we was over there by the aaahhhhh (snapping fingers) highway by the old Yankee Stadium.

Him: The Deegan?

Her: Yeah The Deegan. We about to get off by Yankee stadium trynna come back to the block. Next thing, I know, "whoop whoop" police behind us. lol. I was scared to def! lol. you hear me? They walked up, asking questions and shit cause of the plates. They come to my window first like (Strong voice)"Who the car belong to?" .. I said Homeboy. they like what's his name, "I'm like Homeboy" . No, what's his real name? "I said HOME.... BOY!" lol. They gon ask Ron the same shit "What's his name?" he like "I call him uncle homeboy" LOLOL. I couldn't stop laughing. They was pissed off. They had all our stupid asses lined up on the side of the highway..

Her: What was his name anyway?

Many nights.. I would sit on the block with the older guys. I guess you would call them the OG's. We would sit around, like any other day. Some would be drinking champagne, some would be drinking henny, and others would be drinking beer. Their choice of drink usually reflected how well they were doing at the time. But, sooner or later, no matter the drink it all had the same effect.

Once, they were drunk, they would often go back in time and tell these crazy stories about shit they did, witnessed, or things that just happened around the hood. I was a kid listening to these stories. They were like movies to me.. the stories were so rich in detail. It felt like I was there.. You could see it. You could smell it, You could feel whatever fear or excitement they had in those few moments... Mixed with the surrounding elements of liquor, weed, loud music, and sirens going off in the background, it became the texture and soundtrack to each story told.

We all have a story, whether good or bad.. there's a story to tell. Off The Record is that . It's an ongoing article where I've gone to my neighborhood and interviewed retired street guys, that have left the game alone.. They were filled with stories. Stories that they never told or felt like they could ever tell.. These are true stories. These are the stories of the men and women from neighborhoods like mine, across the country.

Written by a Troubled Youth