I used to see Charlie Callas a lot on the street in Ft. Lee New Jersey, where I often worked. He lived in one of the small mid-rises on Center Ave./ He was the bane of the old ladies in his building, for his lewd antics and noises and the dirty jokes he often offered in the elevators coming or going. I once saw him in a strip mall on Lemoine Ave., standing on the sidewalk outside the plate glass window of a bagel shop, with his trademark tongue-hanging-out, wildly moving both arms and mid-section in movements simulating intercourse, while the woman sitting at the table closest to the window looked at him wide-eyed, her mouth open, gasping, with her food dropping off her fork.