For Bruce
A few years ago, on a warm summer night, Sarah and I sat in front of Jimmy John's, drunk off tequila. We giggled with Shaun and Will as they took a "smoke break" and joined us. Shortly Bruce, the owner of the leather store next door, joined us.
Bruce had an eccentric look about him. He wore shorts that were a tad too short, t-shirts with the sleeves cut off, and sandals (if he wore shoes at all). His salt-and-pepper hair was short but unruly, and he had a beard to match. He was always shadowed by Bugsy, his dog, who shared the same unruly salt-and-pepper hair. But his eccentric look was also one of kindness and warmth. His beard parted often with a smile.
"Are you smart?" Bruce asked Sarah.
Sarah giggled. "No, but Tessa is!" she replied, pointing a thumb at me.
I began giggling as well as Bruce sat next to me. He leaned over and looked me in the eye.
"You're smart?" he asked.
"Yeah, I guess."
"What's M-C-D-O-N-A-L-D-S spell?"
"McDonald's."
"Good. What's M-A-C-B-U-R-G-E-R spell?"
I paused a second, spelling in my head. "MacBurger."
"How about M-A-C-D-O-G?"
"MacDog?"
"What's M-A-C-H-I-N-E spell?"
"Machine."
Bruce's face lit up with a smile. "You are smart!" He said. Sarah and I exploded into giggles as Bruce stood up and continued down the street, Bugsy following behind.
Bruce passed away yesterday morning in a fire that destroyed his store. He was many things to many people, but to me he was a kind, funny man who could always be found on Dickson St. He was, in a sense, a huge reason of why the street is so much more than just stores and bars. His death is a huge shock to the community, and an even greater loss.
I never got to know him aside from a few casual, drunken jokes on the street. I doubt he would have even recognized my face. And to me that's the saddest part-that I knew he was someone worth getting to know and I never did.
Rest in Peace, Bruce.
Bruce had an eccentric look about him. He wore shorts that were a tad too short, t-shirts with the sleeves cut off, and sandals (if he wore shoes at all). His salt-and-pepper hair was short but unruly, and he had a beard to match. He was always shadowed by Bugsy, his dog, who shared the same unruly salt-and-pepper hair. But his eccentric look was also one of kindness and warmth. His beard parted often with a smile.
"Are you smart?" Bruce asked Sarah.
Sarah giggled. "No, but Tessa is!" she replied, pointing a thumb at me.
I began giggling as well as Bruce sat next to me. He leaned over and looked me in the eye.
"You're smart?" he asked.
"Yeah, I guess."
"What's M-C-D-O-N-A-L-D-S spell?"
"McDonald's."
"Good. What's M-A-C-B-U-R-G-E-R spell?"
I paused a second, spelling in my head. "MacBurger."
"How about M-A-C-D-O-G?"
"MacDog?"
"What's M-A-C-H-I-N-E spell?"
"Machine."
Bruce's face lit up with a smile. "You are smart!" He said. Sarah and I exploded into giggles as Bruce stood up and continued down the street, Bugsy following behind.
Bruce passed away yesterday morning in a fire that destroyed his store. He was many things to many people, but to me he was a kind, funny man who could always be found on Dickson St. He was, in a sense, a huge reason of why the street is so much more than just stores and bars. His death is a huge shock to the community, and an even greater loss.
I never got to know him aside from a few casual, drunken jokes on the street. I doubt he would have even recognized my face. And to me that's the saddest part-that I knew he was someone worth getting to know and I never did.
Rest in Peace, Bruce.