Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 1/24

It was a fun day at the floating bookshop. I made more money than usual and there was a wonderful moment political in nature. I've spoken of Political Man many times. He came out with guns blazing today. "Tax the rich," he said. "These Republicans want to take everything away: Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, abortion." As he segued to Obamacare, a tall Russian gentleman who has purchased many books approached with a donation for me. He stopped and listened to PM, then said in his heavy accent: "You say because you don't know. I live in Russia. I know." He was referring, of course, to government-run health care in the former Soviet Union. PM was not deterred. The gentleman purchased four thrillers and went on his way. Poor Frank, also of the class of '67 at Lafayette H.S., got caught in the role of my buffer, absorbing PM's rant. "He gets Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security and he pays a buck-fifty for drugs - what more does he want?" he said to me as PM stepped away to address another passerby. When PM and I were alone later, he conveyed his hopes that gay marriage would soon be approved in Rhode Island. When I asked if he were married to his partner, he said: "No, he has too much money. I'd lose all my benefits." The comedy continues. Taxpayers are being taken for chumps.
Marie, who has donated many CDs, DVDS and VHS tapes to me, purchased A Hitch in Twilight today. I wanted to charge her half price, but she wouldn't hear of it. Thanks, madam. It was 50 days between sales of my own books, not counting eight Kindle sales of Killing. Thanks also to the elderly Russian woman who donated several serious novels, including Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse.
Read Vic's stories, free:
http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature
Billy C. has been one of my great friends. We are the same age and grew up across the street from each other. A group of us used to take his Playboy magazines to the vacant lot up the block so we could lust over the models without fear of our mothers walking in on us. I still remember the Greek cuss words he taught me: Scata sta mootrousou, booshti, and scarse, vassanon. I'm sure the spelling is off. Anyway, he frequently sends me political emails. Here's one I love:

• Piss on a Crucifix, and they'll call you an "Artist"
• Piss on The American Flag, and they'll call you a Freedom of Speech "Constitutionalist"
• Piss on a Police Car, and they'll call you an Occupy Wall Street "Freedom Lovin' 99 percenter"
• Piss on a Taliban piece of shit that just tried to kill you and your fellow Marines, and they'll call you a "Villain" 
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