“Pimp Jimmy” or “Jimmy the Greek” were all names we referred to him as, behind his back of course - to his face he was just “Jimmy.”
Piggybacking on my good friend Hedy’s blog today.....it reminded me of a time in my life when my “good deed doing” could have gone in a whole different direction.
Some ten years ago or so, I was riding my suburban train into Chicago with my tall guy friend, who, when it comes to talking to strangers, makes me, Susan Snippets, look like a shrinking-violet-wallflower, and one day he stuck up a conversation with a handsome, nicely-muscled, older, white gentleman, who on most mornings, was dressed like a pimp.
Hence the names we called him.
After several conversations with sharing and caring being spread around, I got comfortable with Jimmy and my sometimes-in-place-street-smarts-guard went down.
So while driving to the train station one cold morning...I noticed Pimp Jimmy standing at a bus stop (let’s face it – he was hard to miss!) – I pulled up and asked him if he wanted a ride. He jumped in and off we went.
It wasn’t until several pick ups later..while I was pulling up to the bus stop, I noticed that he glanced at the building across the street before getting in. So, I asked him why he looked up there. He said that he wasn’t suppose to be getting rides from anyone unless the “transition” house had that person’s address, driver’s license number, etc.
Over the next 6 months or so...Jimmy shared with tall guy and me incredible stories of his very, very checkered past and how he ended up in prison....several times – “never for anything violent..always just for drugs.”
He was raised in Chicago, an only child of a highly-respected judge, who fell into the world of drugs, sex and rock-n-roll...and hadn't been able to climb out.
All these years later..we aren’t sure where he is..I am just happy that he hadn’t been in prison for rape or murder...although we only know what he told us...I am sure he wouldn’t have lied.
i could’ve died