The No-Name Orangutan

So yesterday I had the most delightful day out with my girlie. First we went to the Mermaid Parade at Coney Island and hung out with our friend Colyn at the ocean in the sun and shade. Then after a ride through the haunted house, a walk past the freak show, some horrible pizza and all the island’s oddities Bobby (yes, that’s her name) and I took the train back to midtown and got some decent pizza and hung at Union Square, and what a fuckin’ day it was at the Square yesterday!

There were Peepers, and Gravers and baby scenesters, and the Garbage King, and Ram and everyone who comes to the park to entertain me and my darling.

But by far the highlight of the visit for me was when one of the Gravers whom I am quite familiar with from over the past 6 years finally, after many threats and promises to Skater Bob, got the nerve to confront me about his photograph on my site (Amazing Strangers pg 62 “The Evil Twin of Spring Love.”)

Ever since I first found out this particular Graver has been going up to Skater Bob and telling him he doesn’t know if he wants to shake my hand or punch me in the face and he’s got 15 guys who are after me, I have been referring to him as the Orangutan, because he looks like a fucking Orangutan! And the Orangutan has a long history of making a spectacle of himself around town.

Anyhow, the long overdue meeting happened yesterday evening and it was priceless. He started off saying “hey Bob, you don’t know me, but I’m on your site and I wanted to tell you a couple things,” or something to that effect. (if anyone who was there cares to remind me how this all went down your recollections are welcome, ie Bobby, Richie Rich, Trash & Vaudeville graver, Orangutan, whoever).

I said hello to him and asked him his name to which he replied, “I don’t want you to know my name,” then he said to me “you have a couple pictures of me on your site and I am going to ask you to remove them. I’m in a band and I can’t have pictures like that out there.”

To which I replied, “First of all, if you’re gonna come to Union Square and make a spectacle of yourself you better expect to be made a spectacle of.”

Then he said, “I have a question for you. Do you even know where the word Graver comes from?!”

Jesus Christ! Do I know where the word Graver comes from??

“Yes I do. It’s a goth raver.”

“Okay, so maybe you know that…”

“I know all about you guys, from back when you were the Order of the Dragon gang at the Cube…”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve been around since The Cube. We weren’t a gang. It was a group of us that…”

“But I read what was written on that electrical box and you were a gang! Okay, you were a club.”

“We weren’t a gang, or a club, it was some of us who…”

“You sounded like a gang to me picking a fight with the ravers. I’ll tell you one thing, I’ll believe that electrical box before I believe you! And now you’re all in the Union Square FightClub! I read it in the paper!”

“We’re not fight club! We never called ourselves that!”

“But I saw it right there in the papers! UNION SQUARE FIGHT CLUB it said!”

“It’s not a fight club!”

“Yeah, I know. And the Order of the Dragon isn’t a gang and you’re not a graver and fight club isn’t fight club.”

So that went on for a bit, me trying to confuse the matter and such. He preceded to tell me how he’d talked to Skater Bob about he didn’t know whether to… “Yeah yeah, I know. ‘Shake my hand or punch me in the face.’ Bob’s kept me up-to-date with all the messages you told him to tell me.”

My gf, Bobby, started to get a little riled by his empty threat to maybe one day punch me and pretty much was ready to kick his ass herself. Then he told me to remove his pictures off the site again, and that’s when I felt the need to lecture him.

“Listen. You cannot expect to come out to the park like this and make a spectacle of yourself with your Fightclubbing and Order of the Dragon gangs, and not have a sense of humor enough about yourself to get your balls busted. “

“I do have a sense of humor about myself but…”

“Not if you’re telling me to take down a picture I took of you.”

“Well, I also need to have it taken down because I’m in a band and they reserve the rights to my pictures.”

“And your label might sue me if I keep the picture posted?”

“Suing you would be unnecessary…”

“Oh, c.mon.”

“And just so you know we’re putting a YouTube video about you on the internet to see how you like it!”

“Haha! I love it! I would love if you did that!”

“What do you do anyhow? Sit and take picture at the park all day?”

“You think I wouldn’t adore having you guys go through the trouble of making a video of me? And just so you know I also sell Jesus magnets on the internet,” I said quite cockily.

So finally, after he saw I wasn’t gonna stop with the lectures about him not being able to take a ball busting, he reached out to shake my hand and said, “So I’m gonna do what I said I was gonna do. Shake your hand and say “Fuck You,” and he walked away.

And I said. “You better get a sense of humor about yourself. I’m not gonna ask you to take your ‘fuck you’ back. I don’t care!”

And he was gone.

It was neat.