These were three dudes we grew up with in Rotterdam (the suburb of Schenectady, N.Y., dubbed “A Nice Place to Live”, and not the place in Holland). We didn’t hang out with them, but rather, avoided them at all costs.
“Jesus”
Jesus (not his real name) wasn’t called Jesus because he looked like Jesus, or because he had a beard or wore sandals or was Holier than thou. No, he was called Jesus because he demanded everyone call him that. Even his mother. In fact, he used to BEAT his mother. This poor, single mother worked her ass off two shifts and overtime to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table only to come home to an abusive 15-year old son who would beat her with a belt if the dishes weren’t done or she didn’t leave a meal in the fridge for him. She’d call him by his given name and he’d slap her in the face right in front of people and demand she call him Jesus. He once duct-taped her to a chair for three days, beating her repetitively, feeding her water and Cheerios until he got his way over something stupid like getting a new bike. He’d get taken away, and soon enough, he’d be back again, and back to beating her. Finally one day she snapped and stabbed him. We never saw either of them again after that. Their home was vacant for years.
The Meatman
The Meatman was just bat shit crazy. About 20 or 30, but he had something wrong with him, whatever that retardation was at the time where grown men had the mentality of 10-year-olds. Whatever was wrong with him, he was a predator. He’d walk up and down the streets looking for groups of younger kids, to expose himself to. He didn’t go to school, so he’d wait at the bus stop and kids would scatter and run like hell from him as soon as they got off the bus. Sometimes you’d see him walking down the middle of his street, pants down around his ankles, masturbating. (Thus, the name Meatman, I guess.) Cars beeping, people yelling. The cops were always at his house, but they never did anything about it because of his supposed “retardation”. We weren’t even allowed on his street. And if we saw him coming down ours, we ran. And if he did get a hold of you and masturbate on you (or worse), no one did anything about it back then because they just brushed it off as him being “retarded”. How convenient for him.
The Nazi Guy
The Nazi Guy wasn’t really a Nazi, he was just an old guy, and we just called him that. He was a decorated U.S. WWII veteran who lost his extended family to the Nazi gas chambers and his brothers to the war. His house was riddled with anti-Nazi signs and anti-war propaganda. “Nazis Killed My Four Brothers!” and “Nazis Are Still Among Us” and other crazy shit. Some people called him the Freedom Rider because he rode a bike, in uniform, adorned with the little American flags you get at the cemetery, and more anti-Nazi signs. He was a cool guy, just obviously a little fucked up from the war and definitely misunderstood. I don’t think he meant harm to anyone, he was just a bit “off” so we avoided him, too.
Just Another Day
One day the Meatman was beating off in the street out in front of Sal’s Deli, trying to get our attention. My brother and I and some friends started throwing rocks at him. The Nazi Guy was riding by, stopped and yelled at him (and us) to stop, but Meatman, pants down, beat the old guy up and smashed his bike right in front of us. The closest house was Jesus’s so we ran to his house to get help. His mom answered the door, in tears, duct tape over her mouth, mumbling something with Jesus right behind her telling her to shut the fuck up. We told them what was happening. Jesus then ran out with an ax and chased after the Meatman. His mother hobbled out behind him, legs and arms bound in duct tape, too.
Jesus chased down and clocked Meatman with the back part of the ax head, knocked him down, took off his belt and started whipping him in the street. The Nazi Guy ran over and jumped on Jesus’s back to separate them. Meatman then jumped up, violently wiggled his dick up and down in their faces and yelled “Suck this Nazi!” and like tried to cock-slap him but then ran off, pulling his pants up along the way. Jesus was now mad at the Nazi Guy, and they fought fisticuffs, 1920’s boxing-style, until the cops came.
Cops untaped Jesus’s mother and took Jesus away. As they were putting him in the car, he started yelling at us that when he got out he was going to kill us all. Jesus’s mom cried for them not to take him away.
Enter Rudy Doody
But wait — across from Sal’s Deli, there was a two-family home with a balcony. While all of this was going on, a crowd was gathering in front of THAT house as a bunch of men were running over from Sal’s to see what was amiss. Rudy Doody, another guy with the same retardation as Meatman was out on the balcony banging his sister (I forget her name, and she could have been his STEP sister, I don’t know) doggystyle while she threw Mardi Gras beads down to the men below. It wasn’t that big of a deal, they did it all the time, thus the name “Rudy Doody” but just so happened to be doing it while the cops were arresting Jesus. Oh, that’s right his sister was Dee — Rudy Do Dee, get it? Ha. (For real.)
As the cops took notice of Rudy Doody doodying Dee, Jesus got out of the cop car and took off down the street towards the railroad tracks. One cop took chase. The other grabbed a garden hose and began spraying Rudy Doody and his sister. They stopped but then began hurling obscenities at the cops. (I think she had the same mental retardation problem, too.) Regardless, that was it, the crowd dispersed, and no one did anything about it.
Here Comes Kenny
Jesus, however, made it to Chrysler Avenue (a very busy street) where he attempted to run across the street (mind you, he’s handcuffed) only to get hit by Kenny Krystal’s plumbing van. Kenny, pissed off (as always), got out and began kicking the shit out of Jesus for being stupid or whatever as the cop approached, only to have to billy-club Kenny to get to Jesus, and they ended up taking them both away. Meanwhile, Kenny’s plumbing van got rear-ended, which isn’t something you wanted to do to him. He was a bad dude. (Bad in the don’t-fuck-with-him sense.)
Years later Kenny went to jail for using excessive force on a guy who was robbing a store — as the dude ran out the store with the money, Kenny just happened to be unloading his plumbing van and clotheslined the dude with a 36″ steel pipe wrench, instantly vegetating him forever. He then went back to unloading his van like nothing happened, leaving the dude gurgling on the ground and not rendering any aid.
Anyway, it was dinner time, so we ran home.
The Day After
The next day, Jesus was out on bail, sitting on his porch whittling a spear with mom’s butcher knife, as we got off the bus. He said, “What the fuck are you guys looking at? As soon as I sharpen this I’m killing all of you!” and then went back to carving his new weapon. As we made our way home, we watched out for Meatman — he often hid in the bushes waiting to pounce — and sure enough we saw him coming down the street, yelling “I’m gonna frig you! I’m gonna frig you!” (He called it “frigging”). But we got to my house before he could catch us. And so far as The Nazi Guy goes, I’m sure he was off spreading his freedom somewhere…
Only in America.
—P.
P.S. — MeatMan now writes for SCREW on occasion. He’s not as retarded as he was. But does so from a distance. Rudy Doody and everyone else, I think, is dead. Except maybe Jesus, I’m sure he’ll be back.
Publisher
As a child my mother said to me, ‘If you grow up to be a soldier, you will become a general. If you grow up to be a monk, you will become the Pope.’ Instead, I grew up to be a degenerate, and now I’m publisher of SCREW.
