28th post
I mentioned the Old Vagabond in one of the earlier posts. Seems lick I
can't leave the Land of the Rising Sun (Las Vegas), but I accumulation a
lotta stories from there an I knead to tell them befor my memory of them
fades into thu darkness of my mind. The Old Vagabond (his'n name in
reality speakin is Mike) was a pain in the arse (a Biblical term for ass?).
He kept up his same old takin day after day; "I'm tired of workin, I
deserve a rest, I used drugs all them years an now I'm suffering for it,
my knees are gone, the only work I want to do is straighten studs (in
home construction), I can't find no woman, I might go to Reno, NV,
Colorado, or Oregon to find work, my old truck needs work etc, etc.
day after day for the 4 months I was in Las Vegas. I was always busy
tryin to find a partime job or busy doin other things such as tryin git
this bloggin started. He (Mike) was contempt to sit in front seat or on
the back trailgate an let the world pass him by.
You see, maybe he (Mike) jist wanted a friend. If'n he wood hav ass
me to be his friend I wood hav tol him the same thing I tol another
supervisional manager I had some years past "If you want a friend get
a dog." Maybe I'd be rude in doin that, but Mike ain't no stranger to me
no more an all my friends are strangers.
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I like friendly people of all races and cultures.