Oh The People You'll Meet

Mike -

Tonight, Mike washed my roommates car. I had never met Mike before, but I am pretty sure that my roommate had talked to him a few times. The short end of the story goes that Mike is a guy from the block, tries to earn a few bucks here and there doing things for people. "This is my hustle," as he puts it in while spitting ice chips onto the street.

Mike was paid for washing the car and we were enjoying a drink on the stoop. He told us his story. Explained to us that he had been given 3 lives. His first life nearly ended in 1983, when he got shot, in the chest, 4 blocks from where we sat. He had been a number runner. One night he's walking, some dudes role up and before he realizes it, an encounter takes place, he is shot and laying on the ground. Wound up at the Harlem Hospital. (Specializing in babies and gun shot wounds, no lying). They saved his life.

Life number 2 was almost taken a few years later in upstate New York when, while crossing a street, Mike was hit by a car. He flew through the air, landed on his head and was cut from the top of his head to his jaw. Once again, doctors put him back together, but Mike couldn't remember who he was. After they ran through some names, he remembered. They wanted to take him home. He didn't know where home was. So he got in a cab and drove to the city to see if something jogged his memory. As they drove, he remembered... "I live in Harlem. Yeah, that's it. I live in Harlem."

Crazy story right? He could have been making the whole thing up. Who know's? Point is, I couldn't write something that good. Something would have told me it was too much. That couldn't have all happened to one person. But maybe it did... Maybe it happened to Mike from the block.