Dope Rat by Jon Bennett

Tony has a million dollar condo off Masonic but he spends all his time in the Tenderloin working security for the Aldrich Hotel. They only pay $100 a week but it’s interesting watching the city crumble through the cameras he installed. He’s in an ongoing war with the street people trying to keep them out of the private alley leading to the hotel’s parking lot. We all appreciate Tony. 

 

One day I see him working on the lock for the gate. While it’s been broken the alley filled up with junkies taking shits, leaving shit, smoking shit. I’m glad to see him. 

 

“Tony! You OK!” 

“I’m fine, been waiting on parts.” 

 

We’re standing by a rat hole dug out under the foundation which Tony filled with industrial foam. Right above the hole is graffiti of a black rat, in silhouette, with the letters “f u” under it. 

 

“I wonder who did that picture,” I say. 

“Not me. At least the foam seems to have worked. I saw him come out one night on the CCTV so I ran down here. Emptied a whole cannister into it.” 

“I still see them,” I say. “They’ve colonized the parking lot.” 

“Yeah. I used to watch this one in particular,” he says pointing to the hole. “He’d come out here and drink the junkie’s piss.” 

“What?!” 

The shallow driveway to the gate is the only place to take a piss on the block. There’s always a puddle there. 

“He’d come out here and suck it up. In fact he seemed to prefer it fresh and steamy.” 

“That rat got strung out,” I say. 

“That’s what I figure. He sure did have a lot of energy.” 

 

The major drug in the area is EVERYTHING – meth, crack, fetty, and of course Steel Reserve beer. 

          

       “There no way he wasn’t getting fucked up on that piss,” I say. 

            “Yep,” says Tony. “You ever see a pigeon smoking a cigarette?” 

            “What?!” 

            “I’ll call you next time I see one.” 

 

end 

Jon Bennett writes and plays music in San Francisco.