I was in the changing room today, and a guy who was obviously of some ‘special needs’ started talking to me. I made conversation with him, while I changed and tried to be cordial when I left.
For some reason, this reminded me of a guy I sort of knew back in high school.
‘Dougie Big Feet’ was a great big guy, who wore about size 15 Basket Masters. He was probably in his 30’s somewhere, although it was hard to tell. I believe he had some kind of degenerative disease, because he seemed to get worse off as time went on.
He walked with a cane, and patrolled a wide range of the neighborhood collecting pop cans and bottles, and changing the calenders in the local businesses. I worked in the local drug store and Dougie came in daily. The boss / pharmacist, was quite the asshole, but he was pretty good to Dougie. He was polite, anyhow.
My buddy and I bought Dougie a shopping cart at a garage sale once, and Dougie could use it to support himself, and to hold his found treasures. One day, he came into the pharmacy, and he was just freaking. Apparently, the night before, some cops had accused him of ripping off the shopping cart, and thought he was drunk. I don’t know if they were just from out of town, or being cocksuckers…
Anyhow, I believe that I heard many years ago that Dougie had died. For some reason, the guy in the changing room today made me think of him.
I think that Dougie really was a T-Man at heart, because he never gave up. Every fucken day, rain or shine, he was out, doing his thing, collecting cans, and changing calenders.
I guess remembering ‘Dougie’ just inspired me somehow…
|/ 3Toes