Tuesday, July 21, 2009


he came barreling up
all twenty four years of him
for a man with Downes Syndrome
he was doing all right for himself
he had a license and a can do attitude
and he wasn’t a dick
when I told him he couldn’t bring
his coffee inside
“but I just wanna go in and watch the music!”
“that’s fine, buddy, but you gotta leave
your coffee out here.”
“okay, okay. Just don’t let anybody take it!”
“I’ll try not to.”
he enjoyed shouting everything
instead of just speaking
in a reasonable voice
it didn’t bother me though
because even when mid shout
he always wore a smile on his face
“where’s the music?!”
“does it cost money?!”
“five dollars.”
“but I don’t have any money!”
“you never do, but you seem to manage.”
“haha, that’s true. I’ll go to the bar!”
he went up to the bar and yelled,
“hey bartender! I don’t have any money!”
I turned to check somebody else’s ID
and when I looked back he was smiling at me
a beer in his hand
“the bartender is such a good guy!”
he shouted over to me
the bartender was looking over his shoulder
shaking his head and smiling
“yeah, he is a good guy,” I replied.
“I don’t have money, so he gives me beer for free!”
“I wish it was like that for me, my man.”
“I’m a pretty lucky guy!”
“I know it.”
we all had a laugh because it was true
he was one of the most cheerful people
that ever came into that bar
and I got the feeling
that he felt like that everyday of his life

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