Tuesday, March 8, 2022

Hipster Holocaust- (Work in Progress)

 


Hipster Holocaust Chapter Eight

Lydia Vasquez closed out her window at TD bank. She was a teller now and she was enormously proud that she had advanced to that position. It had been a long struggle for the single mother.

She had worked at most of the stores on Court Street since she was a kid. She knew everyone and everyone knew her. She had been a head cashier and semi-manager at the Italian pork store on Degraw Street until they sold out to Koreans. Then she worked at Court Pastry until one of the bakers got too handsy and she went on to Key Food. Until they too sold out as it became a CVS. All the time she had been taking night classes at Brooklyn College and had finally gotten her associates degree.

Which had been perfect when the TD bank opened on Court St. If was about the twentieth bank in the neighborhood so they had to do something different to get people to try them. So they hired Lydia as a local girl made good and she urged people to get accounts at the new branch.

Lydia finished closing out her drawer and went and gathered her things. She was going home to her new apartment in Red Hook which had totally changed since she was a kid. It used to be a crack infested hell hole but now movie stars had moved in and hipster set up bars and restaurants. The giant supermarket had a lot to do with it as the jerk off who owned it had bought up a bunch of real estate and was instrumental in making it the new hot neighborhood. Luckily she had scored an apartment with one of the old timers on Coffey Street who didn’t trust the new people. 

The guard let her out and she started to walk home.  She was tired and didn’t rush. It only cost about eight bucks for an Uber or a taxi but her habits of frugality were hard earned and she didn’t abandon them just because she had a dollar in her pocket. It was a long walk, but the weather was nice and why not.

Lydia crossed over to the other side of the street so she could pass the florist. It was owned by two brothers who had both been crushing on her for about twenty years. She was never a beauty, but she had never had trouble attracting attention even when she was a kid. Short and compact she still had curves ever since she was 12.  Long brown hair that she kept scrupulously clean and straight. Lydia always dressed well even when she didn’t have a lot of money.

The two florist brothers had been among her many neighborhood admirers.  Ever since she was a high school girl. A very, very young high school girl. Mike the older brother was a Vietnam vet who was very proud of his service. He loved to stick it in the face of all the ultra-liberal hipsters who infested the neighborhood these days. He would take off his shirt and sit in his beach chair in the middle of the sidewalk and take the sun. He was not a big guy. But he was wiry and strong. He had been a tunnel rat in Vietnam, and it had really affected him. He came home all fucked up and couldn’t hold a job. Not even on the docks where they had plenty of pyschos. He eventually took over his parent’s florist shop after they passed. What hadn’t changed is that he had flirted with Lydia ever since she was a schoolgirl. He had a whiff of danger to him and as an older guy he was sort of attractive to her when she was about fourteen. But then she met her first boyfriend and she stayed away from the flower shop for a while.

The other brother was a whole different story. Alphonse was a thin short wiry guy who was really weird. He always wore a maroon smock and had an attitude when he waited on customers. He lost more money for the shop then he made. He was very creepy to all the young girls and always talked to them and gave them flowers. He was just too creepy to ever close the deal. The only thing he had going for him was that he was fastidious. He kept the shop spotless, and his personal hygiene was impeccable even if he had a 1950’s slant to it. You didn’t see someone styling their hair with Brylcreem much these days. Alphonse rocked it with the small black comb he kept in his back pocket to periodically run through his greasy locks. Or at least he was convinced he rocked it. No one could tell him otherwise.

Lydia wanted to get a small bunch of flowers to brighten up her apartment. He son Julio loved flowers and he was always cheered up when she brought them home. He as in a wheelchair these days because of the degenerative disease he suffered from. He didn’t have much to do every day. He couldn’t go to school so all he did was stare out the window every day and wait for her to come home.

As she approached the florist she saw that only Alphonse was around. God only knows where Mike was at as he had the habit of disappearing for days on end. She walked up to him and smiled. “Hi Alphonse. I was thinking of getting a small bouquet. For my house.” Alphonse looked at her with slitted eyes and years of resentment. Pretty girls never wanted to talk to him. Even less when they turned into beautiful women.

“Why do you want our flowers. Why don’t you get them from that spic Nestor at his bodega. You’re a spic so you can get the spic discount.” “Why you so mean Alphonse? I bring you some business and you want to insult me. If Mike were here you wouldn’t do that.’ “If Mike were here he woulda been making the googoo eyes at you like he always did. I ain’t like that.” “Sure thing Alphonse sure thing. Never mind about the flowers.” “Go ahead and go fuck yourself you dirty strunz.”

Lydia just shook her head and walked down the street. She picked up a cheap bouquet at the new Gourmet deli which was a glorified bodega anyway. She decided to take the long way home since it was a nice night. She went down Second Place and went to Summit Street where she crossed over the footbridge to go over the BQE. She then turned down Carroll Street. She knew that was safe because the Mob was still on that block. The old man was outside his social club keeping an gimlet eye on things so she was safe. Lydia nodded at him as she passed by. She was always polite to him since she knew who he was.  She walked onward past Columbia to Van Brunt. She would walk along Van Brunt to Red Hook. She liked this route because it took her past the new shops and restaurants that seemed to spring up for a while then die and then get replaced by something new.

She turned down Van Brunt and approached the corner. Suddenly someone grabbed her by her hair and put their hand over her mouth and dragged her into a small alley between two buildings behind some garbage cans. She tried to struggle. She screamed and kicked and dropped the flowers on the floor. But no one heard her because his hand was clamped on her mouth. She tried to bite but it didn’t seem to have any effect. She felt a warm wetness on her face and on her throat as she fell to the ground. She tried to scream but nothing came out but gasps. She wet herself and started to cry. She was so embarrassed. Her son would be so embarrassed. It was her last thought as she died.

The figure standing over watched her slip away and smiled. He dragged her further back into the alley where there was a small dip or hole in what passed as yard. It was filled with refuse and debris. He tossed her in and turned away. He saw the flowers on the floor. They were slightly crumpled but good enough to reuse. He picked them up. He turned to look back at his handiwork.

“Three.”


No comments: