- Growing Up Bronx
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When we were kids, we were assholes at times. I remember that there was a prostitute house down the block from our building. My friends and I would stand across the street and watch men come and go at all hours of the night and day. We thought we were funny and we said that we should teach them a lesson for bringing all this riff raff to our neighborhood.
So we went to our friend who sold fireworks. We asked him for a few M80s and set out to execute our plan. The idea was to wait until a few guys came and went in. We’d let them get comfortable and possibly start the action. Once we felt they were hot and ready, we would open the outside door, light the M80 and throw it inside before anyone would come out.
Now in hindsight, I realize how dangerous and harmful this could have been. However, we were young, ghetto kids, and these people were polluting our neighborhood with drugs and criminals. We didn’t want these men hanging out where we played outside, so we took action.
In any case, we put our plans to action. We waited, we saw two guys come in and waited about 10 minutes or so. Then we went, opened the door, lit the M80, threw into the hallway, (no one was there, they were in private, sectioned off rooms) and then we ran about three quarters up the block.
The M80 went off and we lost our shit laughing. We waited and there was no response from anyone inside. Satisfied that we probably scared the shit out of those guys, we went about our day playing and assumed they’d never come back. But after that, the business continued, but don’t worry, we had more M80s.
We executed the same plan on another weekend. This time though, someone did come out, he was shirtless with only pants on. He was looking around and I believe he was holding a gun. He may have thought that he was being shot at. We were hiding and far away so he didn’t see us, but we realized that we were fucking with very dangerous men and in doing so putting our lives in danger.
After that episode with the gunman we dropped our M80 assaults. Still, the prostitution house didn’t last much longer after that. I assume that word spread about someone shooting up and bombing the place with M80s. The drug dealers didn’t want that much exposure so I believe the owners moved location. In essence, my friends and I were better than the cops and politicians at cleaning up our Bronx neighborhood!