First impression: Guy behind a dumpster. Is he an employee on break?
Second impression: If he is, I'm not shopping there.
I had no real way of avoiding him, as the "is a bum" conclusion was made far too late for easy avoidance manouvers. Eye contact had been made. I mentally checked to see if I had any readily available change that I could give him if necessary.
He looked at me and opened his mouth. He had no teeth. I prepared myself for him to give me some lame story about how he needed a bus fare or something (all while standing behind a dumpster at a liquour wholesaler).
"How're ya doin today?" he asked brightly.
I was off guard. The only words I could think of were about how I was broke and how sorry I was. I even had a lame smile all ready for him.
"Uh, fine." I responded. I pretended to be in a hurry. I wasn't, really. I had about 4 hours to blow while I waited for my car be checked out. He really was pleasant though. Funky.
"What's your shirt say?" He seemed genuinely curious. The shirt doesn't say anything. Instead there is simply a picture. A picture of a pirate skull surfing a hot dog on a sea of cheerios with a rat on his shoulder. A remarkably tasteful affair, believe it or not.
"Nothing, it's just a picture." I helpfully moved the strap of my bag a few inches so he could see it, all without breaking stride.
I did consider slowing down and discussing with him the properties of the pipe the pirate skull thing was smoking while calmly performing his morning surf, but I had somewhere to be. Well, I had convinced myself of that. In truth, I was still swallowing my lame smile I never got a chance to use.
He mentioned he had never seen anything like the picture before. I believed him.
It was about this time that I was passing him. I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. One that covers all the things a shirt should, anyway. He was wearing this dirty pink button up shirt that barely covered his shoulders, and could probably only be buttoned on a man a few sizes smaller than him. This, in itself, wasn't really a problem.
The guy wasn't terribly hideous or anything and it was a 90 some odd degree day in California. The interesting part was the two tattoos he had on his chest. One of which was a succubus with wings and large bare breasts.
Really, what is going through your head when you get a woman's bare chest tattoed on yours? Do you think women are attracted to that?
I suppose women prefer men with teeth too, now that I think about it.
The guys then? Does it make you look hard-core to your buddies? Give you street cred? Why don't you just get some hardcore Pamela Anderson action goin on your ass while you're at it? Then at least you can walk into your local bar and say "I had Pamela all over my ass all night, and the some more in the mornin'." Good for a laugh, assuming you're in the right kind of joint.
Of course, his local bar is the dumpster, I'm sure he'd be the life of the party.
I wish I'd had my camera. He would have been a great interview. Oh well, there'll be more interesting people all across the country.