Alex

A large black man mutters something that I don't understand as I open the door of my block while my friend wheels out her bicycle.  He is wearing an old baseball cap with the letters 'KA' (the name of a popular Caribbean fruit punch drink) and an over-sized shirt.  He has a greying beard and a pair of beige-rimmed glasses that sit on his nose at an angle.  I look confused.  He laughs from his belly.  'He doesn't get the drift', he says pointing at me and doubling over.  His laugh is infectious.  He says some more things that I find difficult to grasp.  I am evidently missing the joke.  He waves me away and we begin to walk in opposite directions until I decide to trun back and ask my question.

'I don't use it', he says, standing upright.  'But does it exist?' I ask, mirroring his posture.  'Yes', he says with suspicion.  I don't give up.  'Can you tell me it?'  He squints.  'It begins with 'A'', he says.  I begin guessing.  'Anthony?'  I suggest.  He shakes his head.  'Adrian?'  My friend pipes up, 'Adam?'  We don't seem to be close.  I ask for another letter.  He gives me 'L'.  'Allington?' I try, perhaps thinking of middle names past.  'Alfred?' my friend suggests more plausibly.  He gives us a clue.  'He's a famous saint - he did stuff in countries'.  I ask for another letter.  I get 'E'.  'Alessandro', I try (I'm not sure why).  My friend finally hits the jackpot.  He laughs and grabs my hand.  'My first name's St David', he says.

Using me as leverage he aims towards my friend.  He asks for her middle name and tells her it's a beautiful name.  He then asks my name.  'Richard', I tell him.  He throws his head back.  'That's a dodgy one', he laughs.  Tears are rolling down his cheeks.  'What's your middle name?'  I tell him.  'Fuck off!' he roars.  We begin our jovial goodbyes.  'You've got a great butt', he tells my friend through chortles as we walk away.