SLOPPY JOHN AND PRINCE VALIENT

There once was a fruit and vegetable stand that stood around the corner from where I lived in Brooklyn. It was a great source of amusement to my friends and me. Being only 7 or 8 we needed constant amusement. Often we would load up our cap pistols and run around the corner and “attack” this produce stand and solicit a response from the grouchy old man who owned it. He was called “sloppy John” in English, but we used the Italian version when referring too him. For the sake of clarity and spelling, I will use the English version here.

Next to the produce store sitting on the corner was a bar or gin mill. It had three entrances to it, one on each side of the building and one on the corner itself. Often we would load our cap pistols, run into one side and out the corner, whooping it up and firing our cap pistols that disturbed all the drunks. It is where I learned to curse in English, as I listened for the sworn vows of revenge, and the descriptive adjectives that accompanied the curse words. Life was fun.

One day my friends and I decided to raid the produce stand so we could play sword fighting. Sloppy John had crates and bushels he would discard along a wall in front of his store. The tops of the bushels were round which made for great shields, and the crates provided us with our swords. When we raided, we realized there were no crates on the sidewall, but were all stacked inside the store. We ran into the store, grabbed what we could, and continued to run out the store. Well old Sloppy John, comes out after us with a broom in his hand, and throws it like a spear, and as I’m running by the scale, the broom flies through the scale! Seeing that he was such a great spear thrower, we decided to test him again, ran by the second time as we usually did, and Sloppy John was waiting for us! As we flew by like wild Indians, out comes this big old Irish Setter that begins to chase us down the block and around the corner. Never owning a dog, we all were scared silly, and headed for our stoops and hallways. Unfortunately for me, I trip on the sidewalk, and the dog catches up to me. On my back, pinned to the ground by his front paws, tears streaming down my face, thinking I’m going to be eaten alive, the dog is licking my face!
Then just like that, the animal just sprints away, and my sword fighting days were over.