It was a Wednesday evening, also known as “guys night out” for the five men standing around a pool table at Benny’s, a sports bar in Philadelphia. All five had come to America decades ago and met each other through pick-up soccer games in their younger years. They enjoyed getting together once a week for the three Bs: billiards, Buffalo wings and beer.
What they loved most about these get-togethers was the opportunity to not only shoot pool, but also the breeze. They could let loose about anything on their minds: sports, politics, entertainment — even occasionally cooking. It didn’t take much to spark a long discussion. On this April evening, it was Javier, an immigrant from Mexico, who triggered a lively exchange with his friends, Arun, Mesfin, Francois, and Gideon.
“Kids these days,” Javier said, shaking his head. “They just don’t know the value of money. Miguel asked me if he can have $200 to buy a pair of headphones. I told him that $200 is a lot of money, but if he talks to his sister for a month, I’d give him 50 bucks. He laughed like 50 bucks was too little. When I came to America, I had only $50 to my name.”
“You had $50?” said Arun. “You were lucky! I wish I had that much when I came to America. I could have bought some nice clothes and shoes. But all I had was what my mother handed me when I left New Delhi: $10.”
“You had 10 bucks?” said Francois. “You were lucky! $10 was a lot of money in those days. You could buy groceries for a week, go watch a movie and still have money left to invest in the stock market. When I came here from Haiti, I had only a few coins in my pockets.”
“You had pockets?” said Mesfin. “You were lucky! My parents couldn’t afford to give me pockets. The tailor in Addis Ababa said that pockets would cost extra, so my dad said, ‘It’s okay. He has no money anyway.’ So I came to America with no money and no pockets in my pants.”
“You had pants?” said Gideon. “You were lucky! I had no pants. I wore a pair of shorts. They were tiny shorts — you know the style in those days — and I was really cold on the plane from Accra.”
“You came on a plane?” said Francois. “You were lucky! You probably arrived here from Ghana faster than I arrived here. My whole family — we came to America on a boat.”
“You came on a boat?” said Javier. “You were lucky! I had to swim. I swam across the Rio Grande River. And when I got out of the water, I had trouble running from the border patrol, because my shoes were really wet.”
“You had shoes?” said Arun. “You were lucky! I just had flip-flops.”
“You had flip-flops?” said Francois. “You were lucky! I was barefoot when I came to America.”
It was almost midnight when the five friends left Benny’s, feeling a little tired, a little tipsy and a little luckier than when they arrived.
Melvin: You left out the last one: “You had feet? When I arrived here, I had wooden legs.”
Very witty. . . and poignant