YMCA Bowery
YMCA Bowery
On the Bowery there is a YMCA
It is across the street from The Bowery Poetry Club where the poets
meet and read poetry.
I went over to that YMCA and opened the door and walked right in
Yes Sir
I'm a writer may I come in
I'm sorry bit unless you live here , we can't let you in
That's OK I said and she gave me the name of the manager and asked me what I wanted
I just said that I wanted to know what the YMCA thought about the Bowery , a neighborhood nobody gave two shits about for sixty years is now becoming one of the hottest trendy neighborhoods in new york ?
She tore off a piece of paper and wrote down the managers name and asked me if I was a cop. I thanked her for the day managers name and told her that I was not a cop and I turned and headed for the exit where there were a group of people hanging around.
I am white skinned they were dark black and I stood there on that stoop in front of the Bowery YMCA and I put my hand out. Four young men and one young woman shook out but one tall young healthy proud and suspicious man would not shape my hand
He told the others that I was just inside the YMCA and he overheard the desk clerk say that no questions would be answered to me and he tried to get the other four to ignore me but they wanted to needed to talk and here was this non cop not threatening white man so they overrode the tallest and most physically imposing person and spoke
The first to speak was the lighter skinned spanish girl and she told me that things are not right with the young children in this place
Then the deep black skinned young man spoke up and he told me that a chinese woman had been raped in the hallways of the YMCA.
Then the heavy set young guy said that the YMCA,s days are numbered here on the bowery and that soon it would go condo but he pointed to the city shelter up the street on third and said that thell never get rid of that place.
The very dark skinned guy the most friendly to me asked the tall guy to shake my hand. He said that I was cool and not a cop but guy just distrusted me and when I put out my hand to thank everyone for their time that he just would not shake my hand. His friends apologized for his unwelcome behavior to this strange stranger on their stoop and I said that it OK I understand and I had no hard feelings one way or the other.
I said good by and just considered that making four new friends out of five was pretty good and I respected the tall guy for not trusting the white guy whose kind were taking away his bowery.
I crossed The Bowery and walked past The Poetry Club. I wondered briefly what kind of poems they were reading in there but that thought did not linger in my mind for long.
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