Pete delivers his high quality Mid Atlantic narrative across a granite counter top as he preps meals in his chef’s attire for the writer’s host. He is tall, barrel-chested, handsome with short golden brown hair and a neat trimmed beard. He appears to be about fifty. His hands do not stop working as his mouth takes him back down a graffitied, gas-lit memory lane.
…
Baltimore was a great town—you and me, about the same age, it was a walkin’ town. We came up in Hamden. My mom ended up living down on the water in South Baltimore. Guys still hung out, would go party somewhere. I was a poor white boy, so I’d party across from the projects where I could afford the drinks—and maybe a little something extra.
I got robed three times—never had shit on me. Some poor black dude with a gun is robbing me, I’m turnin’ my pockets out to show I ain’t got shit. What’s he thinkin’ “Bro, wrong dude; I’m a white guy from Baltimore—we got no money!”
Hamden was a white area, and there were black areas where you didn’t go. Then there was Greek Town and Little Italy, back when you had Greeks and Italians. You might go there, but you got the hell out before dark!
We had friends, they were just friends. Most looked like you, some didn’t. We didn’t have separate classes of black friends and white friends like you do now. All that shit started in 2015 with that Freddie Gray bullshit. You didn’t screw your friends, turn on them, or trade them in. Now you have a vetting process for friends—like you're applying for a government job?
I had one friend who robbed an old lady at an ATM, pointed a gun at her! He told me about it afterward, that he felt so bad about how scared she was, and that she had less than him—he didn’t even take anything. I said, “Dude, that gun could have gone off—what the hell, just work.”
Baltimore was always poor people robbing and killing poor people and the rich people that run the place stealing from everybody. The top politicians are under indictment again—hello! It’s like they can’t help it. Brandon Scot, good lookin’ black guy. Everybody loves you out of the gate just for what you are. He’s got to scam, and also needs, what, like a fuckin’ battle wagon like the Prez, to drive around town and soak up the love?
In terms of quality dining, the entire town was recreated in Baltimore County and Harford County, out of nice old school buildings and into current commercial architecture. But the plumbing is good, right, nobody robbing you or your customers? I have one friend, six foot five inch Rastafarian guy; hires dudes out of prison, ran three locations, and he was getting robbed. He was charting the way out, boot-strapped up, gave back to the community, and these black kids are robbing him right and left? He moves his business out to Harford County, goes from three city locations to one. I ask him how its going and he’s like, “Oh, I’m making plenty of money off of white people who don’t like what I am—and no one is robbing me. I’ll take it.” I’m like, “Yeah, Bro, even if we hate you, we’ll still do business with you and not stick a gun in your face!”
Baltimore kinda did me a favor by driving me out with violent bullshit. I’ve worked in New England, New York—I hate Chicago, fuck Chicago man. Rich assholes everywhere, and, AND you still have black kids sticking a gun in your face wanting “what you got!” Basically, except for Chicago, and now New York since 2020—going back to having a crazy criminal in every alley—it’s all been good.
Now, New Orleans, its its own animal—fuckin’ weird man. It’s great, best bars in the world. But the cops can stop and frisk, so you can’t pack a knife for defense. Taking a piss is like the most dangerous tactical exercise you can undertake. There are nowhere near the facilities needed. My buddy is about to duck down this alley to piss. And this local guy grabs him, “No, you won’t come back. Piss where you are rather than go down an alley.” That’s when I started taking a good look at the alleys. They are only this wide [hands just beyond shoulder width], no street lights at all, black—anybody could be down there.
Now here, down in Sarasota, this is great, fantastic. Yeah, you have to work a lot and its hard finding enough full-time chefs to do what I want to do. But so many people fled here from the BULLSHIT, from the Northeast, that you’ll never convince me to go back. I don’t even want to visit—fuck that, swim with sharks again? For what? Where I live with my daughters—who are doing great—I don’t even have to lock my doors. Imagine that? What?! Right!
Of course, now I have the tax man on my ass; talk about robbery, right? But I’m doing good, family is good, working with good people.
What happened to Baltimore was a shame, and, I think, no accident. I grew up with black kids wanting to be friends with me because I was white, to them looking at me like I’m Grand Woowoo of the che-che-che. I guess, the best thing to get away from, is the hate. Get away from that and you can make money—and you can’t do shit in this world without money!
