When I was a kid, when my family lived in the projects on the lower west side of Buffalo, a girl who lived across the way used to babysit me and my sister. She used to watch MTV and draw in a notebook after she put us to bed. She'd invite this guy whose face I never saw to the back patio door. He whispered things to her like, “Show me your titties.” I know this because I would spy on them from the top of the steps. I never got to see anything. Her back was always turned to me.
One night, my dad got home from work and I heard him yelling. I got out of bed and went to the top of the steps. He was yelling at the babysitter because she’d drawn a picture and written something on a page she tore out of her notebook. I saw the page later, when my dad questioned me about the whole thing. The page said, “I love Eric B.” The television was still on while my dad was yelling at her. He thought what she'd written was about me.