Victor Navarro Jr.: Madman Laureate of Pittsburgh’s Little Italy
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Hilary, Victor and I sit outside talking about relationships. It’s the last day of summer so the air is still warm enough for lots of people to be walking around on the streets, but the cool Autumn energies of change are all around us. We’re in good spirits and Victor’s on a roll, being quite lyrical under the buzz and hum of moths circling the streetlight. He tells us about a long lost girlfriend from the seventies that claimed he got her pregnant.
We’re both a little shocked. We never knew this part of his history.
“Well what happened, Victor?” Hilary asks him very seriously, “Did you have a kid?”
“Oh, hun,” he said, leaning forward and opening his eyes wide in emphasis,
”It wasn’t mine!”
He says it like we should have known that immediately.
Hilary and I exchange glances. We knew the story wasn’t over, but we had no idea where it would go.
“It was a virgin birth!” He says in a disgruntled mutter, “She knew it was immaculate conception! That bitch.”
Davka lives and writes in a 1989 Ford Econoline 150 van parked somewhere in Bloomfield, probably behind the laundromat. She loves gritty writing by women with blood and dirt in their hair. She is working diligently to have Victor Navarro officially recognized as the Patron Saint of Mad Artists. She blogs at www.davkadeergirl.com