One Saturday night in the early 1950s, we were shooting pool at Nacho's Pool Hall on Date Street in Simons with pool cues crooked as a broken nose. While we were shooting pool, Pachie was getting a shoe shine from a shoeshine boy. Afterward, he was just walking around with a joint on his ear; getting tired of hanging around, he left, saying he would see us later. We didn't see him again till a week later when he showed up at the pool hall. Pachie told us that after he left the pool hall the week before he was pulled over by the Montebello cops and that one cop said to him that he was under arrest for having a joint, Pachie said he asked the cop, "where's the evidence?", the cop took the joint from his ear, "here it is" said the cop.
He was asked as he was put in the back seat of the cop's black and white "where did you get the joint?", Pachie answered him with, "I ain't squawking" That response got the cops so angry that they pulled him out of the car and then proceeded to kick his ass. Once the cops cooled down, they decided to him go.
Poor Pachie was always getting his ass kicked, first by Panfelita's big white rooster and now by the Montebello cops.
Poor Pachie was always getting his ass kicked, first by Panfelita's big white rooster and now by the Montebello cops.
No comments:
Post a Comment