Satiricus was still on a roll now that his old buddy Cappo had returned from his (illegal) sojourn in New York. He, Cappo, was keeping the fellas’ throats quite lubricated at the Back Street Bar with the greenbacks he’d brought back. That he also regaled them with his life and times in the Big Apple didn’t hurt. Cappo, on the other hand, was interested in what had gone down in his native land in his absence. Thus, the conversation and the beer flowed like Amaila Falls.
“Suh wha’ time Rum Jhaat a close dong bar now?” Cappo wanted to know. “Me know ‘e cyaan close dong abee Back Street Bar…but me wan’ fuh tek ayu a Tong fuh wan drink!”
“Still two o’clock in the morning,” Hari smiled. “But you know by then you’re long gone under the table!!”
“But wha’ mek ‘e a close bar an’ ‘e guvment a open gamblin’?” asked Cappo. “Gamblin’ mo bad!”
“Really?” asked Satiricus. “Why you think so?”
“In New Yark, dem open wan casino whe all dem Guyanese live in Queens,” Cappo reported. “Yuh nah wan’ fuh know wha’ happen!”
“Tell abee, na,” said Bungi, who sounded all proud and proprietary about his old cane-cutting partner.
“All dem Guyanese bais who use fuh drink pan Liberty Avenue now a get free drink a de casino,” said Cappo.
“That sounds good,” said Satiricus.
“But now dem cyan drink AN’ gamble!” reported Cappo. “An’ den tu’n mo’ bruks dan Begga’ Man Polo!!”
“But we had a casino already running in Guyana, Cappo,” said Satiricus. “And that didn’t happen here.”
“Like yuh fuget only las’ year me guh a New Yark,” said Cappo with a laugh. “Abee ardinary Guyanese cyaan go and gamble a da casino!”
“But Cappo,” interjected Bungi, “if abee can drink and gamble all abee money, abee guh tu’n jus’ like New Yark!”
“Suh who seh Rum Jhaat and ‘e guvment na wan fuh bring progress?” said Cappo, as even Satiricus laughed.
