Sometimes this job of mine offers an entrée to completely unexpected and totally delightful moments.
Latest case in point: I stopped in to the shoe repair shop Wednesday to drop off my knock-off Guccis. It was noonish, and I was in the middle of a good run of errands.
My paisan took the shoes. Another guy behind the counter, a guy I didn’t know, looked at me. I looked at him.
Him: “So. Wanna have a beer with us?”
Me: “Whaddaya got?”
Him: “Bud or Coors Light.”
Me: “Gimme a Coors.”
I figured he was testing me a bit to see if I was a “guy.” It just so happened I was thirsty, weary of errand-running, and quite happy to pass a little time over some liquid refreshment.
Turns out the guy is a retired cop. The three of us shot the shi breeze about everything from Sicily to family to television to crime to sports. All in 12-ounces!
A lot of people think that because I’m a TV boy, I get to hang out with important people.
I do. I really do.
The Brooks File 
What a pleasant vinaigrette!
And I am delighted to see that you measure the passage of time in ounces of beer. It’s the manly way.
Yeah, that’s how I roll.
Wow everytime I’m running errands all I get is hurried. Although I love the gentleman I take my shoes (purses) to, he is an older(being liberal)Italian who couldn’t be sweeter and on occasion has fixed a strap on a bag at no charge, but a 12 oz never. Good day for you Gerry.
Yup, just one of the fringe benefits of being a TV Boy.
a 10 star post. Made my Thursday!
(Taking a short bow.)
You got that right. Any shoe repairman is a very important person in my book.
Locally, one guy retired last year, another’s retiring next month, and my guy’s not getting any younger. This would not be a bad craft for a younger person to learn.
A guy is going through his recently deceased father’s desk. He finds a shoe repair ticket dated 1965. The shoes were never picked up. He decides to surprise the cobbler, so he goes to the shop and hands him the ticket. The cobbler looks at it for a second, hands it back and says, “They’ll be ready Tuesday.”
HA HA HA !!
(I’m here all week. Try the veal hash.)
In Soviet Russia, shoes pick you up. I love this country.
Clearly you’re rooted to the ground like the rest of us. Thank goodness. There are people in positions similar to yours who might have taken that opportunity to hand out a publicity photo or two…
Much appreciated, Doug. (And I don’t even have any of those publicity pix, though I’m acutely aware of what you’re talking about. Or who.)
Gerry,
Its Sunday night and I just read this post. I imagine its hard to keep it real and try to stay with in yourself ( if you know what I mean). Keep on being a regular guy, thats why we watch you.
Bruce
Bruce, thanks for the kind words. It’s not hard at all, because if I was any other way, my family and friends would beat the crap out of me.