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Provided by the compucert In high school I knew a guy named Chris Brown. He seemed like a good enough guy. Pleasant. Well spoken. Smart.
In those college years we crossed paths again. Almost everyone I knew had ended up working for various movie theaters. Mark and Chris had been working together at the UA Theater at the corner of Bell Blvd and 39th Avenue.
Byt this time Chris was on his own and pretty much living like a nomad. He was finding places all over Bayside and Flushing where he can rent a room for $25 - $75 per WEEK. Yeah, not even monthly rent, weekly. Odd.
The biggest problem Chris had was that he was always having a line of people coming and going at all hours which would inevitable get the landlord upset, resulting in Chris looking for a new place to crash.
But through all his problems, Chris always had his door open for his good old friend Mark. Yep, that Mark. Mark had a clever personality, with vulgar racist quips all the time, as Chris was half black. But Chris didn;t have a problem with this per se, afterall, who in their right mind would say hateful things to the face of a fried?
Also, so you're up to sspeed in this story, Chris had a flavor for very young girls. In fact he quite enjoyed the underaged ones.
So one day Mark had nothing to do and went to visit his good friend Chris. Chris had a little "visitor" over and wanted some alone time, so he sent Mark packing.
This enraged Mark. He stamped back to his car. He had no entertainment for the evening. What was he to do?
A-ha!
He drove down the block to a pay phone and called 9-1-1 reported a rape, and provided Chris' address.
He sat in his car and waited for the fun. When the police and ambulances appeared on the scene he drove off laughing.
Great friend, huh?
And I know this story because Mark called me later to tell me about it, laughing his ass off. And I know it's true because in a later time Chris himself told the same story, but without the laughter.
In those college years we crossed paths again. Almost everyone I knew had ended up working for various movie theaters. Mark and Chris had been working together at the UA Theater at the corner of Bell Blvd and 39th Avenue.
Byt this time Chris was on his own and pretty much living like a nomad. He was finding places all over Bayside and Flushing where he can rent a room for $25 - $75 per WEEK. Yeah, not even monthly rent, weekly. Odd.
The biggest problem Chris had was that he was always having a line of people coming and going at all hours which would inevitable get the landlord upset, resulting in Chris looking for a new place to crash.
But through all his problems, Chris always had his door open for his good old friend Mark. Yep, that Mark. Mark had a clever personality, with vulgar racist quips all the time, as Chris was half black. But Chris didn;t have a problem with this per se, afterall, who in their right mind would say hateful things to the face of a fried?
Also, so you're up to sspeed in this story, Chris had a flavor for very young girls. In fact he quite enjoyed the underaged ones.
So one day Mark had nothing to do and went to visit his good friend Chris. Chris had a little "visitor" over and wanted some alone time, so he sent Mark packing.
This enraged Mark. He stamped back to his car. He had no entertainment for the evening. What was he to do?
A-ha!
He drove down the block to a pay phone and called 9-1-1 reported a rape, and provided Chris' address.
He sat in his car and waited for the fun. When the police and ambulances appeared on the scene he drove off laughing.
Great friend, huh?
And I know this story because Mark called me later to tell me about it, laughing his ass off. And I know it's true because in a later time Chris himself told the same story, but without the laughter.
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