Let me be Frank

I been talkin about my feelins a lot and the reason why I talk about em but I never told you why it is that I started doin it.  So heres a little back story on my visits to the precinct head shrink.

I was made to go see her after my ol partner Frank died. I dont like to talk abou t that day ... or the days after. But Ill talk about Frank. He was a grate guy. 20 years my senior. Close to retirin. He was around before Miranda. Man he had soem stories. He new guys who could work a punk over real good and it was all legla then. Dont get me rong, theese thugs they worked over were always guilty but back then you could get em to admit it all a lot faster without all hthis I wanna talk to my lawyer crap that yousee today.

Anyway Frank was  my mentor (like me to Johnnie).  When I started walkin the beat down at the docks, he showed me the ropes. The ropes that marked the perimetter of the docks, the ropes that held up cargo above the loadin zones, the ropes that a couople a dead dealers were hangin from....They had a lotta rope down there. And Frank showed em all to me.

He showed me how to drive on 2 weels roundin a a sharp curve. How to get air when speeddin over a a hill in a intersection even though we aint got hills in NYC. And he showed me how to run across the hoods and roofs of cars when trying to run down a perp in traffic. 

He used to call me Hotdog. Heh heh. Not because I was fast or energetic but cause I ate a lotta hotdogs! He  showed  me the all the best dirty water dog stands in the city... He used to say hey hotdog get me a fFrank ... and Id say hey Frank get me a hotdog.  Then wed make jokes about eatin each other even thoguh it seemed gay (which we werent sodont get any funny idears.)

Saw this once and hadda take a picture.

Losing Frank ... well it just crushed me. I had a hard time dealing with it. I took a looooong leave a absense after he died. 3 years. They made me see the shrink eveyr week. I still see her just not every week anymore.

Up until I lostall this weihgt I ate hotdogs pretty regular. Not at first because it ws too hard. But eventually. And now evey year on the annivesary of Franks death I always get a extra one. Plain ... the way Frank liked em.

I cant talk no more.... My typin finger hurts.

...and so does my heart if I'm being frank with you.

--Gristle out