Out on a Sunday to explore this seedier section of the city where I've lived most of my young adult life.  On a nameless street pushing through the crowded walks of people scratching to survive, or looking for that next fix. Most run down and spent , shifty looking men with this and that to sell.
     I come to a new hand painted sign, "Tonys' video rental and game arcade", on a post next to the steps leading down.  Used to be a bar I thought.  A heavy square door set between old moss grown and crumbling brick.  The worn hinges complain as I push my way in.
     Stale, sour breath brushing my face smelling of many years of urine, smoke and mildew.  Faint afternoon light streaming from a single box window faintly illuminates, cobwebbed corners and water stained cracks in the stucco, to fat Tony the proprietor.  Sitting behind a bar converted to a counter with the rows of video tape behind.  Some nameles cheap music pounding from the T.V. he watches with wicked interest.
     Looking off through a large arched doorway to the next room, with its single naked bulb dangling between the concrete pillars. Rows of video arcade games with colored lights of their own, hypnotically flashing off the faces of their thralls, seated or standing intent and mesmerized.  Their small hands, fingers, frantically tap, tap, tapping the buttons and levers to create an orchestra of grunts, screams, bells and whistles.
     A tug on my arm, "Hey mister ya got any quarters?" and then Tony "Get outa here kid, can'tcha see he's a customer!"  The kids face imploring, bright fevered eyes in a dirt smudged face.  Shifting from foot to foot, the need to urinate put aside for the chance to make another go at slaying the dragon, the chance to get his next fix.  "Hey mister got any quarters?"

Flashbacks to my younger days, might make a cool Poser scene.

. 

A HOMELAND FOR POSER FINALLY