- da Brooklyn Stoop

- Brooklyn Boardwalk

- Brooklyn Memories

The Adventures of Ira Lakey

by Ken Thompson

     Looking at Ira would never lead you to believe that he was funny, dangerous or even maybe interesting. Actually, Ira was mostly funny and was only sometimes dangerous… when he got hurt or embarrassed. If given the time and the opportunity he could be interesting.

     Ira didn't tell jokes… he told stories and they almost always involved him and his real or imaginary "adventures". Sometimes it was difficult to tell what was real and what was not.

     To put things in perspective, you have to get an understanding of who Ira was. First of all he was invisible... not really but at least practically. He was slight, unassuming, quiet, and seemed to come and go like a breeze. He didn't play sports, didn't have a girlfriend, was an only child of older parents, and had only one close friend... Joel. He wasn't a recluse or anti-social… he just was able to adapt his behavior and be a survivor… maybe today he could be termed "sensitive". He was so invisible at times that teachers would see him in the hall and not realize that he was a student in one of the their classes.

     I knew Ira because I knew Joel and some other boys who lived in his apartment house on E. 5th Street. If the group of us was small enough and Ira was at ease with everyone; and if you gave him a chance, Ira would tell of his adventures. He would always tell them with a "hyper" sense of excitement and as outlandishly and animatedly as he could. A recurring pattern was that crazy situations always seemed to find him and no one else.

     The first story that I recall had to do with Ira and a large Boro Park hospital where he went to have his appendix out. After he returned home and was asked how his hospital stay was, Ira related that it was very, very demanding.

     He told that he was pestered daily to give the nurses a "hard urine sample". Now Ira never seemingly had a problem generating a sample himself but evidently wasn't used to having nursing staff insist on helping produce the sample.

     The story went on and on about the nurses demands and his "reluctance". The "helpers" assigned to assist were primarily female (except for one male who he was sure was a "test") and of all ages, shapes, ethnicities, and religions but it was difficult for Ira to perform.

     Finally, as Ira told it, he "demanded" an 18 year old Christian nursing student in a white uniform, who shouldn't wear a bra, had to bring a girlie magazine and a jar of Pond's cream, and sleeping blinders for herself.

     The rest of his stay in the hospital he described as wonderful and so healing.

     Two days before he was to go home, the nursing staff said that they needed two samples a day and they all needed to watch.

     Ira said that he allowed it because it was for "medical science".

     A second story had to do with Ira going down to Livingston Street to take the test for his Driving Learners Permit.

     He told of sitting at a long table with an empty folding chair between each test-taker. The occupied chair to his right had a VERY large fellow whose name he was sure was Juan Jose Jimenez Jesus Juarez. Ira described him as 25, 6 foot 6, very hairy, tattooed, wearing 5 gold crosses, mean looking, having a terrifying sneer, and smelling rather odd.

     The prime rule for test-takers was "NO CHEATING" but 5J was apparently exempt from such mundane rules. 5J kept looking in Ira's direction so Ira covered his answer sheet more carefully. When 5J leaned even more to take "a peek", the woman proctor, who must have been a retired movie theater matron, politely, though scoldingly, told 5J to not look at Ira's sheet and for Ira not to allow him to see.

     5J must have misunderstood her, stood up, glared, and sat in the chair right next to Ira's and said "Lemme see."

     The proctor said nothing but stood directly across the table. When 5J started to look again, Mrs. Proctor yelled to Ira, "Don't let him cheat, do you want me to disqualify you?" Literally and figuratively, Ira didn't know what to say.

     After a series of moves and covers, Ira signaled to 5J to just wait a minute. As Ira worked on the test, 5J took a stab at a few questions. As Ira finished the test he slid his answer sheet slightly towards 5J and stretched his skinny arms way above his head to give 5J an unimpeded look. Mrs. Proctor just glared at Ira as 5J "finished" his exam.

     As 5J got up to take his answer sheet and have his test scored, he leaned toward Ira and whispered with a combo sneer, smile, and sarcasm, "Thanks pretty pussy" and made a kissing sound.

     Ira made no reaction and after 3 seconds retrieved his paper and corrected all his own answer.

     He smiled at Mrs. Proctor, who seemed to understand what was happening but all she did was slowly shake her head.

     Ira was at end of the line as 5J was getting scored. HE FAILED! Ira in his most innocent way smiled sheepishly with his eyes darting from side to side.

     4J looked astonished and then became livid and started cursing and screaming and looking for Ira. He was escorted out the doorway but stood with his shiny nose pressed against the glass window yelling and gesturing at Ira. Ira was scared 'cause that was the door he would have to exit by. When Ira got to the front of the line and had his test graded he wound up passing.

     There seemed to be no other possibility for Ira other than exiting the building whereby he would be immediately pummeled and left as a greasy stain on the sidewalk. His passing the Learner's Permit test would be for naught.

     At this point there was a pretty large crowd near the front of the building where 5J was proclaiming his hate for Ira and the retribution he was gonna extract from the "Pimply pussy".

     Soon or later Ira would have to leave the building.

     In a flash, another option came to Ira.

     He went back and spoke to Mrs. Proctor who was reminding a new batch of test takers that cheating would have them fail the test and would prevent them from re-taking the test for two years.

     In his best almost weepy and frightened tone, with eyes flashing left and right, he told Mrs. Proctor that when 5J was sitting next to Ira he tried to reach over and "touch" Ira in a very personal place. Ira then pointed to it and both sets of there eyes were looking at the area of his groinals.

     Mrs. Proctor really didn't care if Ira got beaten to a pulp after he left the building but the thought of Ira being "touched" and violated was way too unacceptable. Leaving her assigned position she took Ira to one of the supervisor desks, had Ira retell the story, with extensive embellishmnets. Now three sets of eyes looked at Ira's groinal area. The supervisor then made a phone call, excused Mrs. Proctor, and told Ira to just wait there. Ira looked out toward the street and saw 5J still gesturing obscenely and foaming at his mouth.

     In ten minutes a police cruiser showed up with its lights on but no siren. The crowd on the sidewalk became silent and parted to let the cops enter. When Ira again told the story, this time with more vivid descriptions, the cops too wound up looking at the area of Ira's groinals. When Ira was finally asked what he wanted to have happen he said he didn't want to cause any trouble and just wanted to be driven over to the Jay Street - Boro Hall stop on the IND line and for the big fellow, pointing toward 5J, not to "touch" him in the personal place again.

     One of the cops went out and spoke with 5J and seemed to take down some information. 5J proclaimed his innocence and that he was just waiting for a friend, incidentally, whose name he couldn't recall. The cop spoke to 5J who was nodding his head but that was that… nothing else happened.

     As the cops escorted Ira out of the building, Ira put on a big smirk and could see 5J glaring and being just about ready to explode. As the cruiser pulled away with Ira in the back seat, Ira put his middle finger right up to his cheek, smiled broadly and mouthed the word "Pussy" to 5J.

     Once again Ira won in his own little way.

     The last Ira story was one centered on a nightly gathering of guys from the neighborhood just under a corner streetlight.

     One of the older boys, Bobby, was a super bully and braggart and had a big, foul mouth but was the first to buy a car… 1952 Ford Coupe. He loved the car and polished it whenever he could. If he wasn't cleaning it he had the hood up and was tinkering with it.

     Pretty soon Bobby was continually expounding on his mechanical skills and how he was able to continually increase the cars Miles Per Gallon. He was obsessive about it.

     Little did Bobby know that Ira, who had borne the brunt of Bobby's bullying for years, was pouring an increasing number of soda bottles of gasoline into Bobby's gas tank after dark and on a weekly basis.

     As Ira increased the amount of gas he put in the tank Bobby's bravado increased. All during this time Ira himself or one of Ira's friends would ask Bobby how his car was going. Each opportunity had Bobby raving of his skills and of Frannie, his Ford.

     After about two months Ira did nothing to Frannie, and then reversed tactics… he started siphoning out gas from Bobby's tank. Not much but enough to make a difference in the mileage and MPG. At first Bobby maintained his cool and acted as if all was well.

     After about three weeks of the siphoning Bobby didn't want to talk about his car and even cut back on the washing and Simonizing. Soon the car was just another dingy car on the block with a "For Sale" sign on it. At this point Ira stopped any involvement with Bobby's car other than to ask, once in awhile, how it was running.

     Ira hadn't been in a rush to get even with Bobby but was able to even things out though it cost Ira a couple mouthfuls of gasoline from siphoning with a length of hose.

     I knew of these stories directly from Ira.

     The Ira story he never talked about, though attributed to him, had to do with his getting hold of some well read and dog-eared porn and semi-porn paperbacks. Having been repeatedly and grossly, though unwarrantedly, singled out and embarrassed in a gym class, he had a non-Erasmus friend print on the inside cover "Property of 'Teacher's Name'". He then proceeded to leave the books in places around the Erasmus campus where they would be found. Leaving different books in different places helped assure that at least one would be found and get into the hands of the Erasmus Administration. Ira never found out what the impact was but was pleased that the process was successful. It is not confirmed but reportedly the teacher entered a second career as a dispatcher at the Port Authority Bus Terminal.

     I don't believe that all, or maybe any, of the Ira adventures were true but he was interesting and a great story teller.

     I don't know what became of Ira. I know that after high school he went to work for the Post Office and went to Brooklyn College in the evenings. I think he married and still lives in Brooklyn.

     One of the things I learned from Ira was (1) retribution doesn't have to be immediate, and (2) not to tick him off.



     [end] © Copyright by Ken Thompson - 2006.