My grandpa, God bless his soul, told me something a long time ago. He said that the best way to get over being angry was simple: "Walk it off boy" were his exact words. Earlier in the evening I decided to call someone. My initial thoughts were that the conversation would be healthy and beneficial. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. After the conversation was over; I started thinking about what grandpa told me all those years ago and decided to heed his advice.
Those of you who read the blog on a consistent basis are familiar with my favorite homeless guy in Las Vegas: Johnny. Lately, he's set-up shop at the corner of Flamingo & Durango, which happens to be a route I walk on a frequent basis. As I was approaching the corner 7-11, I saw him standing in the parking lot. Every time he sees me he offers some advice or tells me a funny story; in exchange I usually buy him a beer and hot dog.
"Rob, we've got to stop running into each other like this. What's wrong?" Johnny has an uncanny way of picking up on people's emotions; he told me that he developed the ability while he was in the war. "Hey Johnny, I'm alright brother. I just chatted with a guy and he said a few things that were really hurtful. I'll shake it off, I always do." I could be in the worse mood in the world, but seeing Johnny automatically makes me happy. He has that effect on me. I've said this a number of times in my blog: Johnny reminds me of the angel Clarence in 'It's a Wonderful Life.'
"Why don't you run into the store and buy a couple brews. We can talk about life's problems over them." I knew he was going to hit me up and I would've gladly obliged his request; the problem is that I didn't have any money on me. "Not this time Johnny, I'm not up for beers tonight. I'm just going to keep walking for a while until I cool down some more." My thoughts were that he would move on after I told him no on the beer; I was wrong. "Hell brother, I got all the time in the world. Do you mind if I walk along with you? I could use the exercise." Truth is I enjoy his company. So I gladly accepted his offer to tag along.
"You see this place right here. They make the best burrito in all of Las Vegas. The place across the street has the best donuts in the area and that salon over there will give you an excellent haircut for ten dollars." As we were walking down Durango our conversation shifted to all the businesses on the street. Johnny knew them all. "You see the pizza joint over there. That guy is a buddy of mine. I bet if we go into the joint he'll give us a free piece of pizza. What do you say? Let's get us a piece of pie." At first I didn't want to go into the place with him; but he was already half way there before I could say no. So I tagged along. Turns out I'm not the only guy who is happy to see Johnny.
"What's my good friend Johnny doing? You look like you're hungry. Let me get you and your friend a piece of my pie." I've driven by this place a thousand times but never stopped in. It's an authentic Italian joint on the corner of Desert Inn & Durango. "Carlos, this is my friend Rob. We've been getting our exercise in for the night and we just so happened to walk by your place. So we thought we would check in with you and see what was going on." Imagine a three hundred pound Italian man with an accent to boot standing in front of you. "Any friend of Johnny is a friend of mine. Rob, let me know what you think of the pizza." He then slapped an over-sized slice of pepperoni right in front of me. It looked marvelous and it tasted even better.
The three of us then set down at a table and Carlos proceeds to tell me how he moved to Las Vegas ten years ago from Boston and decided to open his place up. He also tells me how his heart was hurting because of the recent bombings. "I hope those motherfuckers fry in hell" were his exact words. Johnny and I finish our pizza and say our thanks. As were getting ready to leave, Carlos says. "That will be eight bucks for the pizza." I didn't have a dime on me, so I told him that I would have to walk back to my apartment and bring him the money later. Turns out I was being messed with. "Did you see his face? I was just kidding my friend. The pizza was free. Johnny never pays and neither do his friends."
I like to end every post of mine with a thought I'm having...Call it the village idiot thought of the day. "Earlier in the post I liken Johnny to the angel Clarence in 'It's a Wonderful Life.' When we walked into the Italian place tonight and the owner was nice to us. It wasn't because of me. It was Johnny. I'm here to tell you something is not normal about him. It's not a bad not normal; it's a good not normal if that makes sense?"
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