Johnny Sausagebender was a Jew.
He didn’t want people knowing he was a Jew, not that anybody would have cared. That’s why he changed his name to Sausagebender.
But his birth name was Sweetmeats. Johnny Ira Sweetmeats.
Johnny worked at the Presbyterian Mission, down on 118th Street.
He gave shoeshines to all the homeless people.
Johnny was also retarded in case I haven’t mentioned it.
So Johnny would shine the homeless people’s shoes, and they would toss him washers and bottle caps which Johnny would take home and hoard in a makeshift treasure chest he had crafted from an old shoebox.
Now of course bottle caps and washers don’t pay the rent or buy groceries, which is why Johnny also ran a pimp business on the side.
Johnny wasn’t an actual pimp, mind you. He just ran a business for pimps. Sort of a local trade union. Johnny’s father had set it up decades ago after meeting Johnny’s mother. By the time Johnny had inherited the business it pretty much ran itself which suited Johnny’s mentality and abilities quite keenly.
But boy, could Johnny shine a shoe.
He was the best shoe shiner east of the Mississippi.
At least that’s what all the homeless people told him.
Truth is, their shoes were all so ratty that you really couldn’t tell any difference whether they had been shined or not.
They just liked having their feet rubbed.
One day a down-on-his-luck Irishman happened by the Mission.
All day long he kept hearing about this retarded Jewish kid who would come around and give everybody foot rubs for washers and bottle caps.
He didn’t believe any of it though. He had been through a lot of shelters in his time, and he knew that nobody gives foot rubs for washers and bottle caps. Something like that will cost you at least two cardboard boxes and a beer can.
So he was incredulous.
And since his name was Patrick McScredulous, everyone started calling him Incredulous McScredulous.
“You’ll see,” they all told him.
So at this point you’re probably thinking that eventually Johnny came in and rubbed Patrick’s feet thus making a believer out of him, but in this assumption you would be incorrect.
Because this is my goddam story and I’m going to write it however I damn well please and since you’re the one reading it there isn’t a goddam fucking thing you can do about it now, is there?
So here’s what happened (at least in my estimation):
Everyone pooped their pants.
(Weren’t expecting that to happen, were you?)
Yes, everyone got Dysentery and pooped their pants.
Johnny, Incredulous McScredulous; everybody.
The whole town reeked.
And it isn’t like they had washing machines back then.
It took the old town washwoman four months to scrub down everyone’s britches down by the river.
So meanwhile, people weren’t feeling too sociable.
Incredulous McScredulous packed up his gear and left town on the midnight freight train. This was the craziest place he had ever been to and he wanted to get the hell out even if he did have dirty underpants.
Eventually Johnny got his britches scrubbed and started coming back around to the Mission again.
Everyone was happy because everything was back to the way it used to be again.
THE END
© 2018 Randy Bone