Met the neighborhood alcoholic.

There's a (white) guy on my street who's in his 50s and bald with long dirty reddish-blond hair, who's always walking around soused.

We always say hi, then the other day on a Friday evening around 6pm when I'm getting home from work, we began chatting.

He introduced himself as "Chuck, and I don't give a fuck."

Somehow I mentioned that we'd said hi before, and he was like, "I probably didn't notice since I was drunk."

He also said he works at the flea market, and could get me a very nice bike, any kind I wanted, for $40-50.

He also also said that he has a shoeshine stand that he used to use all up and down the N-S street to the West of my place, back when there was 15 bars on a 5 block stretch, and that he got it out a few days ago and went to shine shoes up outside this bar to the northwest of us, like a 10-15 minute walk away.

"This lady, she gives me sixty dollars, and I tell her, 'Thanks, because I need to buy some shit and get high off that,' and then she starts crying, because that killed her brother, she tells me.  I said, 'Oh no, ma'am, I can't take that, and when I try to give her her money back, the gentleman she's with gives me another twenty!'".

He said he got eighty in all off that shoeshine and he did go get fucked up, but he feels bad.

He also said he was on his third twelve pack of the day, and invited me over to smoke up and drink and party.

"I'm not gay or nothing," he was like, "Let's just go party, man."