Mukmuk – 2 October 2012

Posted: October 7, 2013 in Dialog, Prose
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,





October 2012

At noon today I met with Serge, Paul, Joy, Little Jake, Shakes, Chester, Wolf and Shaggy. The first person to greet me was Serge, He said, “It’s my old friend, Kenny Rogers.” “Hi Serge, how are you feeling today?” “Not so good. I have an appointment with my doctor, this afternoon, at the clinic on Cooper Street.” “What are you seeing your doctor about? Are you having problems with your stomach again.” “Yeah, it’s my stomach, and I have a pain in my shoulder.” “What’s the pain in your shoulder from?” “The cops came by. I smashed my bottle so I wouldn’t get a ticket. They put my hands behind my back, put handcuffs on me, then pushed me to the sidewalk. It hurt something in my shoulder.” “I know what those cuffs feel like. They always put them on too tight, don’t they.” “I don’t know why they did that. I didn’t get a ticket. “This morning a guy saw me drinking out of my Listerine bottle. He said, ‘I’ll give you twenty dollars if you throw that bottle away.’ ‘No way,’ I said. ‘Keep your money.’ He gave me the twenty anyway.” “So that worked out well for you. I hope everything goes well at the doctor’s office this afternoon. I’ll see you later.” I moved on to say hello to Shakes and Wolf. Shaggy barked the whole time. “Don’t pay any attention to her,” said Wolf, “she’s just saying hello. She doesn’t make much of a guard dog; she barks, but she’s too lazy to lift her head off the sidewalk.” I sat on the sidewalk in front of Joy. Chester was just leaving to go for Chinese food, at the food court of the Rideau Center. “How’s everything going today, Joy?” I asked. She gestured with her head toward Chester and rolled her eyes. “Dennis, I’m losing it. I met with my P.O. (Parole Officer) this morning. I didn’t think that I was talking loud. All of a sudden two cops came in. They said, ‘We thought there was a disturbance.’ My P.O. was upset, she said, ‘There’s no disturbance. If there had been, I have a buzzer to press, or I would have called you.’ After a while, I had to pee. When I got outside her door, sure enough, the two cops were on either side. They followed me to the bathroom and waited outside. I stayed an extra long time, just to piss them off. I also had a drink. “When I was finished my appointment I took the elevator down. The two cops went with me. I said to them, ‘What is it with you guys? Is it that you just don’t like me? I wasn’t put on this earth to be either liked, or disliked by you.’ I said to the big one, ‘I remember you. You’re the one who smashed my cheek.’ “He said, ‘You didn’t lodge a complaint.’ “I know better than to charge one of Ottawa’s finest. I learned that lesson in Toronto.” I asked, “How did he smash your cheek?” “Feel both of my cheeks. See if you think they feel the same.” I noticed that the bone structure felt different. “Part of my cheek bone was broken off. They were called to our apartment, when I was still with Jake. One cop was talking him outside, the big one was with me in the kitchen. He opened the fridge and started taking out beer. I said, ‘Excuse me.’ Notice that I was being polite. I said, ‘Excuse me, but those are my beer. You’ve no right to be taking them.’ That’s the last I remember. I woke up in hospital. I still have a scar, but it’s nearly faded now. “I also met with my worker this morning. She may have an apartment for me to see tomorrow. I just hope I get it. Chester is driving me crazy. I’d never hurt him, but I just don’t know what I’m doing some times. I think I freaked out my P.O this morning. Hopefully, she’ll get me back on my anti-schizoid medication. I haven’t had it since I was in hospital last January.” “Joy,” I said, “I can understand some of what you’re feeling. If I wasn’t on medication I’d be a mess.” “Last night,” she said, “I was at a party at Chuck’s place on Stewart Street. I was having a good time. I’m entitled to have a good time, once in a while, aren’t I? I’d been there about an hour when I got a phone call from Chester. Even though I told him not to, he invited Loretta over for some Mukmuk loving. I don’t think it worked out the way he planned. He was drunk and she gets crazy when she drinks. Chester said that she was hitting him and he didn’t know how to get her out of his apartment. ‘I said to him, ‘Chester, go over to the fridge. The number for security is on a card there. Phone them and tell them you want someone removed from your apartment. They’ll take Loretta out. If you don’t want to do that, dial 911 and the cops will deal with her.’ I must have gotten half a dozen calls from him. I phoned security, told them that my father was having trouble getting someone out of his apartment. I said, ‘I’ve seen you guys, you’re big enough to handle a hundred pound woman. I’ve also seen that you have handcuffs, if she gives you any trouble.’ “Chester called back again. He said that security had gotten Loretta out of the apartment, but later he heard a knock and opened the door. It was Loretta. She barged back in. Who in their right mind opens a door, when they don’t know who’s on the other side? It could have been thieves, ready to invade his home and take all he’s got. “I came home and Loretta was passed out on the couch. This is my home. I saw red. I really laid into her. I’m not exactly sure what happened, I was fairly wasted at the time. I know I threw her out. This morning, I saw that there was blood on the couch. My knuckles are sore. My foot is sore, there was blood all over my white shoe, and I found teeth prints in the leather. Marilyn doesn’t have teeth, but whoever removed them did a lousy job. She still has nubs. I don’t know what kind of shape she’s in. “Tomorrow, I go for my second anger management counseling session with E. Fry (The Elizabeth Fry Society). I’ll have someone messing with my head. I just can’t take much more. I feel like I’m dying from the inside.



  1. Thanx for sharing another day in the life, Dennis. I can only pray and wish the best for all these folks and their hard luck.


  2. Such accounts should be part of the basic training of all police officers and ‘caring professionals’ – just in case they might not know what it is to be human, or just in case the professional culture might brutalize them – thanks Dennis.


    • dcardiff says:

      As in all professions there are good and bad. Serge is a small, weak, elderly man. I doubt very much that he posed any kind of a threat. I’ve only seen him sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, in the shade. He doesn’t panhandle. He very seldom speaks and doesn’t socialize. I agree, the police should practise more humanity towards the homeless and vulnerable.

      I enjoyed reading, and completely agree with your post “What is the happiness and enlightenment of ‘Interspirituality – as ‘interfaith for the 21stC?’ ” ~ Dennis


  3. I love how you remember the dialogue and write it like small chapters of a story. I’m hooked on your blog! Felling badly for all your friends though….


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