The village idiot of Las Vegas reads his blog to a prince of North Las Vegas.

A few weeks ago a friend of mine from the block introduced me to a fellow named Mario, everyone calls him Mars. He has lived in the neighborhood most of his life:

"Mars," I say with a smile, "I have been writing a blog about the neighborhood. Will you tell me what you think of it?" Mars is a bruiser looking Hispanic gentlemen who knows the ins and outs of North Las Vegas well. He's not a guy to mess with, not at all. 

I began reading a favorite post to him, halfway through he began laughing. I finish reading and ask his thoughts...Again - he knows the area I am writing about well -- "Damn," he says emphatically, "You hit shit right on the head. I know that lady you're talking about. I've helped her cross the street a few times. Let's hear another one." I start in on another post, he began laughing again - "That one is about Dan," he bellows, "Everyone knows Dan (homeless guy). He's like the neighborhood watch around here. I give him food all the time."

After finishing I ask his opinion of the neighborhood...his real opinion - he tells me this -- "There use to be a bunch of knuckleheads around here. All sorts of fights, but Metro laid down the hammer. So most of that shit got pushed across the boulevard. It's like - How do white people say it? You know that town in Leave it to Beaver." Mayfield - I say -- "Yeah," he says and laughs, "It's like Mayfield in the barrio. Nothing goes on around here. Well, not nothing, very little goes on around here is a better way to put it." 

We shoot the shit for a bit longer and then I tell him I must go - "Dude," he says as I am making my exit, "One of these days I will tell you some stories from the old days in the neighborhood. You will probably have to edit most of it out, but I can guarantee you it was a loco life for me back in the day. Now I am domesticated and can't do that shit anymore," I tell him I look forward to hearing them. I then cross the street and jump on the bus for the trek home.

The village idiot of Las Vegas talks it out with Roxy.

I had a room lined out for Roxy this weekend - she never showed. I called; but she wouldn't answer. Well - today I chatted in detail with her. The following is an excerpt of our conversation:

"Jethro, darling - you just don't get it. God if you weren't so fucking adorable this wouldn't be so hard. You and I do not exist anymore. Come on sweetie, you can understand why," I love her more than anything in the world but still she rejects me. "Jethro, why don't you find a nice Kansas girl to settle down with," - Roxy operates at a level much higher than me! But she still must slum. I want to be the guy she slums with!

"Goddammit Jethro," she says with passion, "You are just so fucking adorable -  why do you have to be that way? Why can't you be like all the other assholes I am with? But no... you have to be stupid Jethro from Kansas. Why don't you go back there? Find a job and get on with your life!" I have told her on a few occasions that I would go back if she would come with me - "What the fuck am I going to do in Kansas?" is her standard answer. She is a California girl through and through. That will never change!

I tell her how much I love her and how much money I will have once my idea hits, she doesn't want to hear it - "Look, Jethro, that's another thing I love about you so much. You are just so fucking optimistic. Every one knows you are not going to amount to shit, but you still carry on like you will be rich someday. Have you looked at the shit hole you're living in right now? Come on honey, don't give me the I am going to be rich someday routine. Anything but that!"

I don't know what else to say. She knows I love her and will do anything for her. What else is there to give? - "Jethro, you know that I love you, but not like you love me," she chimes and then adds, "I can't do that right now. You can't take care of a girl like me. It has to fucking end between us. I have a boyfriend now," she's had boyfriends before and it never stopped her. What's so fucking great about this guy? - "He's just safe," she tells me, "He makes me feel safe and I don't get that feeling from you. Let it go honey...Okay.

We chat a little more and she tells me it is time for her to go - "Babe," I say before I hang up, "One of these days you are going to be my girl on a full time basis. I mean that," I hear a sigh and then she says, "We shall see about that."

The village idiot of Las Vegas reads his blog to a lady at KFC.

"Ma'am - may I borrow a minute of your time? I have been writing a blog about the neighborhood and I want to share it with you -- see what you think of it," the KFC in North town (North Las Vegas) runs a special every Tuesday. You get two pieces of chicken and a biscuit for two dollars. Today I decided to indulge myself. After ordering the fare I sat down at a booth and began devouring it. I notice a middle age heavy set colored women setting two booths over. So I ask if she would be interested in a reading. 

"What is it you want to do?" - she says quizzically. "I am writing a blog about the neighborhood and I want to share it with you," I tell her again - she looks oddly at me and bellows - "Go ahead, as long as you don't mine me eating while you read it." I immediately start on popular post, halfway through I glance up to gather her reaction (there was none). I continue reading. Three quarters of the way through I gaze up again to gather her reaction. This time she was dipping her chicken fingers in gravy and smiling.  

After finishing I ask her thoughts - "Let me get this straight, you bought some tamales at the laundromat from the tamale lady. What's so interesting about that? I do it all the time," she then adds, "Have you ever had any of her burritos? They are to die for," I tell her I have never tried the burritos, but plan on doing so next time I see her - "Well you should," she says, "They are a hundred times better than this shit," she points down at an empty Styrofoam KFC plate setting on her table.

I thank her for the time and resume eating my chicken. As she is leaving she turns and says - "What was the name of that thing you just read to me again?" I explain to her once again how I have been writing a reality blog about the neighborhood and it is called The village idiot of Las Vegas. "What do you call yourself?" - she asks again. I tell her once more the title of the blog, she then says - "You don't seem like an idiot. You need to come to my house - I can show you some fucking idiots."

The village idiot of Las Vegas reads his blog to twenty strangers.

Going Guerrilla - think low cost strategy, unconventional means, used in a small (localized) way that draws attention to a product, service or story. The term comes from guerrilla warfare (a way of fighting with tactics that surprised the enemy).

"Hey guys, can I read something to you? I want you to tell me if you like it or not. It's about the neighborhood," I live two blocks from the North Las Vegas city hall. Friday I decided to go there and read the blog to anyone who was willing to listen - "What is it that you want to read us," the receptionist and the building security guard were standing and setting in the main lobby of city hall respectively. Neither looked busy so I approached them about it -- "It will take just a few minutes of your time," I tell them in a reassuring tone. I immediately start reading a condensed version of a favorite post.

"I had to wipe tears from my eyes," the receptionist tells me after finishing, "I have seen the scenario you described a thousand times," she adds. I go on to tell them how I have been writing a reality blog about the neighborhood and how I am sharing it with anyone who will listen - "You captured it extremely well," she concludes.

I leave city hall and walk across the street to the library. I come across three women setting on a bench smoking cigarettes. I ask if it would be alright for me to borrow three minutes of their time and share a story. They give me a what the hell look, so before they can change their minds...I start in. After finishing I look up and ask their thoughts - "That was an awesome story," one says, the second lady says, "Really cool dude. I liked it a lot," I then ask the third for her thoughts - she flashes a thumbs up. I thank them for the time and continue down the road.

I walk into a cellular phone store and ask a kid working there about a new phone...he does his best to explain. I then say - "Dude, do you live around the neighborhood?" -- he proceeds to tell me he was born and raised three blocks from the store. I ask if I can read a post to him...he shrugs his shoulders and says -"Sure." -- After finishing I ask if he enjoyed the story- "Enjoy it, dude, I fucking loved it! That story was a thousand times better than the reality shit you see on television. It was real. I see homeless people all the time and you...uh, uh...I don't know what the word is, but that was really good!" I ask if the word he was looking for is humanize...I humanize things well. He nods in agreement and says - "That is the exact word I am looking for! Dude I will check your blog out for sure."

Last Friday I read the blog to twenty or so different people in the neighborhood. All of them enjoyed it thoroughly. I say this with all sincerity. My writing is my meal ticket! I haven't made a dime from it yet. But I haven't been aggressive with it either. I chatted with a friend from Kansas last week and he made a comment that I feel one day will prove prophetic -- "I read your blog and enjoy it immensely. You lead a life that is so far different from mine. And you do an immaculate job of describing it - I watch a few reality shows like Duck Dynasty and a couple of others, but they suck nowadays. It's guys like you - who can tell a story like you - who will eventually make their way into the main stream.

The village idiot of Las Vegas reads his blog to a group of ladies on Fremont street.

"Young ladies! I guarantee I can put a smile on your face and a tear in your eye. Give me two and a half minutes and I will prove it," the last few days I have been reading the blog to anyone who will listen (the goal is to see what kind of effect my narrative has plus get feedback). Last night I set up shop in downtown Las Vegas. 

"What's the Village Idiot of Las Vegas?" a young lady asks - I was standing on the corner of Fremont and Las Vegas Blvd holding a cardboard sign with The Village Idiot of Las Vegas written in black ink on it. A group of four ladies were passing by and my carnival barking coupled with the sign caught their attention - "I am the Village Idiot of Las Vegas and I write a blog about my life in Las Vegas," I then add, "If you ladies would be so kind to give me three minutes of your time I would like to share a tidbit for you and get your opinion on it." - They look at each other and one says -- "Sure, let's hear it."

I immediately start into a condensed version of a  favorite post. I am a quarter of the way through and I look up to see what their reaction is - all of them are looking at me. I continue reading and three quarters of the way through I look up again. They are all still looking at me - now with smiles. Moments later I finish reading the post, look up and ask their thoughts.

One lady says -"Let me get this straight. The story you just read happened to you, Right?" I tell her yes - A second lady then says -- "This is some kind of pick up line. You are a pick up artist," I smile and say - "I promise that's not my intentions at all. It's just that I have been writing a blog about my life for a while and I decided I would come down here and share it with anyone who was willing to listen." 

There was an awkward silence for a moment and a third lady chimes in - "I followed you the whole time. You are writing a reality blog. That story you read us is wonderful," -- I smile and thank her for the nice words and then ask if I can read another short post to them. They look at each other and then one of them says, "Sure." 

I read another one to them (with extra conviction in my voice). After finishing I ask their thoughts - "You are just so sweet," one says, "I could just fold you up and put you in my pocket and whenever I was in a bad mood I would take you out and you could read a story to me." -- I smile widely and ask - "Where are you lovely ladies from?" in unison they reply - "Cali," I then say, "Be sure to check my blog out. You will find all sorts of stories about my life in it. I do my best to keep things interesting." 

As they are walking away the one who asked if I was a pickup artist turns and says - "Are you sure you're not reading your blog to pick up chicks?" - I smile and say, "I have been writing this blog for a long time and as far as I know I have only gotten one girl to sleep with me from it. She likes it when I write about the two of us being together." - as she is walking off, she says - "I can see why."

Half a Subway sandwich.

Yesterday I found a $10 Subway gift certificate card in my dresser drawer. It was buried underneath a stack of clothes I haven't worn in years (too fat). Any way, I decided no better time than the present. So I throw on a pair of shoes and make the trek to the neighborhood Subway. Upon arrival I order a foot long Marina meatball, drink, chips and two cookies (the total came to $9.89). I exit Subway, turn the corner for the route home and continue my walk with visions of devouring a foot long marinara in my head.

Halfway through my journey I walk upon the neighborhood bus stop - There sat an old homeless guy with a dog on his lap. I nod and say hi - he reciprocates the gesture. I sneak a peek at the dog...it was a miniature poodle. When I was married I had a toy poodle named Pepper - she reminded me of her.

It was the piercing puppy dog (I am hungry look) that stopped me dead in my tracks. I've seen it a thousand times -- "Sir, how are you today? Would you and your buddy like to split a sandwich with me?" - The old homeless guy shifts the dog from his lap to the bench and says -- "We would like that a lot."

I sit down next to them and ask their names - "I'm Eddie and this is my little girl Cupcake," he says in a rusty tone. I introduce myself and ask - "Do you guys like meatball marinara?" - He nods yes. I unwrap the sandwich and hand him half. "Here you go Cupcake. Let's get some food in that belly of yours," a wide smile instantly comes to my face as I watch him grab a meatball and gently feed it to her while her tail wags a mile a minute.

The three of us devour the goods and then I ask how old she is - "This little princess turned three last month," he tells me as he scratches her belly, "I got her from the pound when she was a pup...no one wanted you, isn't that right?" - He adds as he scratches the back of her ears -- "It's just the two of us girl," he concludes.

Eddie loved his dog, and his dog loved him - I ask if it would be okay for me to hold her - "No problem friend," he says as he hands her to me - she immediately began licking my face - "Your spirit must be true, I can tell...she isn't friendly to people who don't have a true spirit," I was going to ask him what he meant by the statement, but decided against.

I still had a bag of potato chips (sour cream and onion) so I open them and grab a handful. I then hand the bag to my derelict friend - Cupcake begins to jump up and down in anticipation - "These are her favorite kind," he bellows, "Here you go girl," he drops a handful on the bench and she snaps them up. We chat a bit longer and then I tell him I must go - "Nice meeting you," I say as I shake his hand, "It was nice meeting you as well Cupcake. You two be careful out here," I add as I poke her nose and prepare to leave.

What happened next will forever be burned into my imagery - it's because I use to do it all the time with my dog Pepper - "What do you say to our friend for getting us lunch?" Eddie had Cupcake held up in front of his face, facing me. He begins to make a silly voice as if it was the dog actually talking, "Byyyyye Mr. Robbbbb," Cupcake says. He wags her front right paw at me - the action brought a smile to my face ten miles wide.

The village idiot of Las Vegas reads his blog to a homeless guy and his imaginary friend.

"Do you think you could spare some change so I could get something to eat?" Yesterday I ate lunch at my favorite dining establishment in North Las Vegas (Burger King). A grizzly looking fellow, I 'm guessing he was in his sixties, wanted to know if I could spare some change so he could get something to eat. I tell him I will buy a hamburger if he is willing to listen to one of my blog posts. He agrees - I began reading.

I'm a quarter or so through the story and he starts mumbling something incoherent. I stop for a moment and notice he is glancing to his left talking to an imaginary person. He stops suddenly and I began reading again. I am now three quarters or so through the post and he began mumbling again. I stop and look at him. This time he is pointing at his imaginary friend. I pay no heed and continue reading.

I finish reading the post and ask his thoughts, I also ask what his friend thought - "It was a good story man," he then looks at his friend and looks back at me - "She thought it was a good story too. Can I have my money now?" I reach into my pocket - give him a few dollars and tell him I appreciate him listening. I then look to the seat his friend is setting - and say -- "Thanks for listening and telling me you like it. I appreciate it." - The homeless gentlemen turns as he is leaving and says -- "She says your welcome."