WQueens7

Kiko and Kevin

July 31, 2007 · 5 Comments

taxi-door-4158-small.jpg

7/31/2007 6:26 AMI played soccer with Mason yesterday morning (and the day before) and twisted my ankle really badly. I was OK yesterday, with a brace, but this morning it really hurts. I hope that I don’t have to go visit the doctor about this.


Here’s the latest installment of Kiko’s Tale, and he’s back. I’m self conscious about dialog, and I’m trying broken English, so let me know if it sounds too much like a minstrel show. There’s more the pipeline, though if I don’t start getting some feedback (It’s hard to keep going without hits and feedback, of course it is possible that it sucks.)

And of course, if you want to start from the beginning, go here.

“Señora Choi, she like watch me like I bad movie,” he continued, “everything need fix. But she happy to see me go. Bring out food, carry dollar back.” Thinking, Kiko continued “I like go, I like outside, I like ride, I like Señora Choi no watch me, no fix me, and I like tips.”

They both smiled in secret agreement of the importance of both getting out of the bosses sight and earning money that was their own: “I like tips I no share,” Kevin said explaining how he was expected to pool his tips with the other cooks while the waiters only gave them 5% of the real money.

“I like tips” Kiko agreed, thinking more kindly of Señora Choi, since she just let him keep his.

Kevin, as they told each other where they worked and got back on their bikes asked Kiko if “You evah see bike race? Fast. Many-many ride bikes close-close fast-fast. Tight-bright-picture-writing-clothes! Funny clothes.”

And Kiko thought of the man on the bridge that morning. On his way back to the shop, where there were two more lunches packed up tightly in brown paper bags by Santiago waiting to go out, he became more aware of riding. He thought about how he rode, which way he went down an avenue, when he shifted gears, how he leaned and turned. He thought about riding as an activity for the first time and was a bit more aware of his pleasure as he rode. And of course he was happy to be the one who did all of the deliveries where he worked, and to protect that he had to keep moving. He came back and got the two deliveries and went to the Fire Station on Murray Street and the office up on Duane and Broadway where he had to sign in.


Categories: City · NY · Photography · bike · bike racing · bike story · colonialism · delivery bikes · fiction · local anthropology · outdoors · queens · restaurant work · work