The Tale of Not-Homeless-Joe

The spot of destiny.

DISCLAIMER: Quoted statements are my best attempt at recounting the conversation. It’s a general gist rather than a verbatim account. Note that “……” is being used to represent drunken pauses in speech and/or gibberish.

A few days ago I went down to Chelsea Pier to do some writing. I had picked up a delicious bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich along the way and proceeded to take it out. For whatever reason, I just had a feeling that someone would ask for some.

The young man in front of me was on his feet by the time I took my second bite. He was heavily intoxicated, swaying as he stood, and slurring every word.

“Heeeeyyyy man, where….. are you from? Like….. what nationality?”

“Oh, well, I’m Italian, Norwegian, German and Irish.”

He looked surprised and pretended to look interested as he eyed my bacon, egg, and cheese wrap with every word. I was a fat man with hunger crankiness. I didn’t want to share. Yet, I could tell he wanted a bite of the sandwich real bad. Screw it. I gave him half.

I asked him his name. “Joe” he said with his mouth full of food.

“No shit,” I replied “my names Joe too!”

He gave me a look along the lines of “are you fucking with me?” and then asked me to join him near his stuff 5 feet away. Part of me thought I should pass but for whatever reason I took him up on the offer.

My initial thought was that Joe was homeless. Nope. Probably not. He had two cell phones, Beats by Dre, new Adidas, and a nice bike. He wasn’t homeless. He was just some faded hipster kid. Oh well.

Not-Homeless-Joe was (henceforth known as NHJ) was a light-skinned black man, mid-late 20’s, about 6’2, and maybe 200 pounds. He had his hair in a top knot with half of it busting out and going rogue. He wore a v-neck tank top that showed his “Black King” chest tattoo.

“So what have you been doing today NHJ?”

“Ahhhh.. haha…. you know man…. drinking… TEQUILAAAA.. smoking some weeeeed hahaha.”

“Oh nice, you’re having a good morning.”

“I got a joint man…. you tryna…. buuuuurrrn?”

I told him thank you but no. There was a park security car about 15 feet away. Along with a woman and a baby 10 feet away.

“Where are you from NHJ?”


“Where’s that at?”

“New Jersey.”

“No shit? I’m from Jersey too man! I was raised in Union county.”


He yelled this a few times in a joking/mocking manner until I responded with my own:


He gave me another look of incredulity. As if I was the one messing with him. Ha. Okay NHJ. Our talk mostly consisted of him talking about random shit and me trying to follow.

“Joe, you…… you know who I love?”

“Nah, NHJ, who?”

“Fat chicks. I love em. They need love, they’re the best, you know? Gimme a fat chick any day.”

He also expressed his attraction towards a nearby 60+ yr old woman multiple times. Throughout the conversation his headphones were on the ground blasting Lil Jon.

“What are you listening to NHJ?”

“Lil Jon…. you know I saw this mother fucker at Avenue… you been to Avenue?… I saw him at Avenue. He’s in a suit and tie and shit looking all professional…. I asked him if he wanted to smoke and he looks at me like I’m some fuckin’ weirdo.

“Aw that’s too bad man. Was it a good show?”

“It was… aaaaiiight. I almost died trying to keep up to this song though.”

His headphones are playing “Shots”.

“You tried to keep up with every shot?”

“Fuck yeahhhh man!!”

NHJ seems like a good guy. I don’t get the vibe that he’s out to hurt anyone, beyond himself maybe. He was just looking for  a good time. Throughout the conversation he would stand up. He’d begin to slowly shuffle in place like he’s dancing but too drunk to move fast. Then he’d yell a random word a few times and sit down.

He expressed that he was into comedy and liked to do stand-up. NHJ claimed he was working on a show for Adult Swim. I’m not sure if that meant he wanted to pitch Adult Swim or if he was claiming he had a contract. He couldn’t, or wouldn’t, explain the concept to me but said it was half cartoons and half real people.

Towards the end of our time together NHJ began singing about “doodoo”. For the life of me I can’t remember his exact phrasing but it was pretty funny. He sang a doodoo song to the baby nearby. Clearly, someone that could relate to the subject matter. NHJ stood up and started doing a little shuffle while singing about doodoo….

Then he says “Oh nooooo… It’s down my leg! It’s down my leg!” and giggles to himself. I look down and see a little turd pop out. Nope. Time to go. I’m out. Bad idea. Peace. I grab my stuff to go and NHJ started laughing.

“HAHA… Chill! Chillll, I’m kidding! I got you man…. I told you I do comedy! Pranks man!”

It wasn’t poop. It was a wood chip he had slid down his pants. NHJ, you got me.. You got me good with that one. 30 or 45 minutes had passed since we first started talking. While this was quite the interesting experience I felt it was time for me to head out and I gathered my things for real.

“Alright, I should get going. Thanks for the company. Take care of yourself NHJ!”

We shake hands and I head off down the pier. NHJ starts shouting after me.


With a furious masturbatory gesture and final yell of “CRAZY STRONG JERKIN”, he bid me farewell. That was the last I saw of Not-Homeless-Joe.