The Martha Stewart of homeless town.

It was another hundred plus day in sunny Las Vegas and I was perched underneath a shady tree behind Food-4-Less when I heard a voice with a thick Texas drawl say, "What's going on partner? Is it hot enough for you?" I glance over my shoulder and standing directly behind me was a middle aged white male of slight build. He was wearing a baseball cap, shorts, a t-shirt and holding a six-pack of beer. "You look like you're thirsty guy. Here, have one of these brews." It was hotter than Hades and a cold beer at the time seemed heaven sent. He then asked me if he could sit down under the tree and catch a bit of the shade with me. I told him this, "Go right ahead. Thanks for the brew buddy. My name is Rob." I then shook his weathered hand and he tells me this, "My name is Brian and I stay over on the other side of Alta. I've been in Las Vegas the last few months. I moved here from California."

Brian looked, acted and talked so much like a Steinbeck character, it was surreal. His next question was more music to my ears. "Are you hungry buddy? I've got some pork chops and potatoes that I am getting ready to fry up. Do you want some?" It was another offer I could not refuse; but my question to him; how is a vagabond on the street planning on cooking dinner? I asked him such and he told me this. "No problem, I have a hot plate in my cart. I'll just plug it into the side of Food-4-Less and fry us up some vittles."

It was just a few pork chops and some fried potatoes, but damn it was good and I wanted him to realize that I was appreciative of his generosity. So I told him this, "I was so hungry I could have eaten the ass end out of a menstruating skunk. Thanks again for looking out." He then told me this, "Partner, you look to clean to be on the streets. What happened? Did your old lady just throw you out?" All one had to do was take notice of my new friend's push cart to realize he was a pro of the streets. Now, I wanted to be honest with him so I told him this, "My old lady through me out a long time ago, that's not the reason. The reason I'm living on Vagabond Lane is rather simple: I am a moron." We shared a few laughs, drank the rest of his six-pack and then he told me this. "I have to move it on down the road, people tend to get angry when I hang around too long. You watch yourself out here and I'll be seeing you around."

I like to end every post of mine with a thought I'm having...Call it the vagabond thought of the day. "I started my new blog because I wanted to share with people what I was experiencing. Reality genre is the correct term for this style of writing, at least that's what they tell me. With that said, I would like to thank everyone who has reached out and offered to help. I appreciate it more than words can describe."