Every few months, our family would visit some cousins in Brooklyn. We'd often hang out with Ray, their friend who lived down the block, and play stoopball on Ray's porch.
One day in the middle of the game, Ray's aunt walks over with a friend and wants to play. "Just one throw" she says. Given that she was a grown-up, we had to concede the ball. She got up and started to kid around, yapping at her friend, taking all the time in the world. She knew it was making us nuts.
Ray finally couldn't take it anymore, and blurted out "Come on Aunt Rose, stop bothering us and get off the court already." Surprised at his outburst, she flashed a dirty look, flipped him the ball and walked off the court.
Ray might have been right that Rose was bugging us and should leave the court, but he had transgressed cultural norms by talking that way to his elders. He knew he was going to "hear" about it too.
The good side about the old neighborhoods was that they were made up of family and friends, people you knew who watched over you and made sure your parents were made aware of any problems. The bad side about the old neighborhoods was that they were made up of family and friends, people you knew who watched over you and made sure your parents were made aware of any problems.
Good side, bad side, Ray got it on the back side.
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