- Weather Improves
- 60 Dollar Friday
- Leslie Appears
- Visitor Under Dock
- Time To Busk, Not Blog
Feels Like 59.2 °F
A Little Help From My (little) Friends
When my flashlight beam fell upon him, I saw that he was kind of young, maybe 20, and he had pretty much a street look about him, but he didn't have any of the accoutrement of the homeless, such as a blanket.
"I'm only going to crash for a couple of hours," he said.
I wasn't taking any chances upon his turning out to be a thief, and so I took the wad of money out of my pocket and hid it, before I lay down.
I didn't start a fire to cook any of the (copious amount again of) food which I had brought, thinking that he might take it as an invitation to try to skeeze some from me; and, in doing so, insinuate himself into my realm. I didn't want to have to put up a tough front, lest he get the notion that he might be able to take advantage of me, alone under the dock as I was.
But, I wasn't "alone," if you factor in my little family of pet rats.
They finally got the chance to pay me back for all of the fine food out of Rouses Market upon which they have become pleasantly plump.
I Send In Artillary
As additional insurance that whomever he was wasn't going to stay long, I enacted the following scheme:
I took a box of ground beef patties and another of ground turkey and, guided by my flashlight, I descended the bank of rocks to a spot not far from where he was laying right on the rocks with only a jacket for protection against the 50 degree air (and more notably the 40 degree rocks) and, as I was reaching overhead to place the food on a girder, I said: "I need to put my food up out of reach of the rats; they're really hungry tonight; because of all the cold weather, I guess. You might want to sleep with your hands in your pockets so they don't try to nip a finger off you..."
After I returned to my spot from where I could overlook him from about 15 feet above, I could see in his deportment that my comment had had an affect upon him.
He wasn't sleeping, but was rather propped upon one elbow and seemed to be seriously contemplating finding another place to sleep.
...And Ground Forces
As he did this, the rats, already smelling the copious amount of food which I had arrived with, began their antics involving rattling tin foil pans and crunching brittle plastic container tops on all sides of us.
Good job, my little pets.
I then took a loaf of French bread and began tearing off little golf ball sized gobs.
These I began to launch in his general direction, using the opportunity of a tanker having just past and the sound of the waves in its wake breaking over the rocks at the rivers edge.
Keeping in time with the rhythm of the waves, I surrounded him with these cannon balls of wheat.
He soon had a lot of 4 legged company.
I soon had no more 2 legged company.
I rewarded the rats with the rest of the loaf, along with some cheddar cheese and I had a nice long peaceful rest, as the temperatures slowly warmed up as advertised.
By noon when I awoke (about 3 hours ago) it was warm enough for me to change my clothes there.
I then went and shaved at The Rib Rooms rest room, and here I am at The Royal Blend coffee house doing this post...
There are tourists everywhere.
No More Old Times
The midnight till 2 slot is when I made most of the 60 dollars last night, though, all I remember is Leslie showing up and sitting on the perch next to me.
I didn't notice who it was for a few minutes because I had just kept playing when "whomever" sat to my right.
He said that it was his last night in his house.
It was he who told me that a lady had thrown 20 dollars in my case, at one point.
"This is just like old times!" he exclaimed a little later.
No, it wasn't like "old times."
He seemed to think that he was going to hang out again, like old times, and make runs to the beer store to spend my tip money, like old times, and then that I would crash at his place (on such a monumental occasion as his last night there) and that he would let me out in the morning and then shadow me, step for step until he drove me to drink, like old times, and that I would occupy myself with nothing more than getting sloppy drunk thereafter, buying one for me; one for him, like old times.
After about an hour, I told him that I needed to get back to work and that such beautiful weather needed to be capitalized upon (it was about 50 degrees) etc.
He hung around for just a bit, looking dejected and hurt and slightly offended; basically pushing my buttons desperately trying to make it like old times again; and then skulked off..