“Where No One Cares About You But You’ll Be Out Of My Hair Thank God”

I called for Joey and no one answered. His mom sent a text that read, “He’s at Paco’s.”

Joey had been hangin’ out with a kid who lived up the street from him. I met the boy’s parents. I liked them. They were good people. They said, “Joey’s one of the family.”

Then, the father of Joey’s friend asked me, “What’s wrong with Little Man’s mom? She sleeps all day and God knows what she does all night. Her boy stayed with us for over a week and she didn’t even ask one word about him when I showed up to fix her dryer.”

“It’s best to ask, ‘What isn’t wrong with her,’ ” I said.


“I’m sure.”

“I talked with her father and he didn’t seem to want to hear anything I said.”

“He didn’t. He’s an ass.”

“It’s sad, man,” said the father of Joey’s friend. “I’m just worried about Joey.”

“Me, too,” I said. “Me, too.”

The last time I heard from Joey he left a message on my cell. He said somethin’ like, “I don’t know what’s wrong with Mom. She started yellin’ at me for nothin’ and she told me, ‘I’m your mother. Not your friend’s mom.’ I know that. I just like to play and hang out over there. It’s like family.”

I haven’t been able to talk with him since. I’d call and, when she answered, his mom’d always say, “He’s over his friend’s house. I’ll have him call you when he gets home.”

He called once when I was workin’. I called back soon as I could but no one answered.

Now, she texts, “He’s at Paco’s.”

For how long?

My guess is he’ll stay there till Paco’s wife says, “Send him back to his mother.”

My guess is Joey’s mom took offense to the help provided and the advice offered by the parents of her son’s friend.

My guess is she pulled him from their home and refused to let him to return.

My guess is she did not say, “Thank you. Teach me.”

My guess is she said, “No more. You’re going to Paco’s.”


About joefingas

I am a songwriter, poet, blues singer, and a boogie woogie piano player. I have a grandson but I have no children of my own. All my women have wised up and left me. I was a bum, a wino, a drug/alcohol counselor, a prevention/intervention specialist and a pretender. I have no more time to pretend.
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