The Dude
Jeremy was walking down Hollywood Blvd. Jeremy was carrying his usual cardboard sign that said, 'Homeless. Every bit helps.' Under his right arm. He was dressed in his best jacket. By his best, he meant a jacket with the fewest holes. The stains only added to the looks in his opinion. While walking, Jeremy ran his left hand through his long, black, and greasy hair in an attempt to make it more orderly.
He approached the 101 off-ramp, right next to the foreign car repair shop. As expected, the Dude was already there with his own sign.
The Dude was dressed in a clean but ragged blue and white checkered shirt. He had a mop of brown hair that was also clean but messy. Under this mop shone blue intelligent eyes.
The Dudes face was briefly illuminated by the red glow coming from his lit cigarette. His unlined face was briefly revealed and hidden once again as he exhaled.
Jeremy sat next to him, placed his sign next to Dudes, and said, "Hey, Dude."
"Hey." Dude replied. He took another long drag on his smoke, held it in for a moment and exhaled.
A few minutes of silence followed. During which a white car stopped at the red light and a Latino lady pretended that she could not see them. Jeremy did not care, he was just getting started and wasn't even holding the sign yet.
He rubbed his hands together and blew into them. He took out a flask from his shirt pocket and took a swig. Before closing it, he passed it to Dude. Dude took a drink and wordlessly gave it back. Jeremy took another sip, hesitated, and then took another before closing the flask. He could have sworn that the booze was homemade. It should not have tasted like the best whiskey on the market.
Dude took another long drag on his cigarette. Jeremy eyed the smoke and asked, "Can I have one?"
Dude put his cigarette in the corner of his mouth and closed one eye to prevent the smoke from getting into it. He took a packet of Marlboros from his chest pocket and handed it to Jeremy.
Jeremy took one, lit it up, and after the first satisfying exhale put the pack down between them.
"You know, I have been thinking," Jeremy said.
"Yeah?" The Dude asked.
"Yeah. You know, when I come to work, I just take and take. I don't give anything back." Jeremy said.
He scratched his bearded chin and continued, "Exchange. I'm thinking, I'll start giving something back."
In fact, he was proud of using the word. He looked it up in a dictionary and liked the sound of it.
Dude leaned his back against the chicken wire fence and blew a stream of smoke in the air. "And?" He asked.
Jeremy took a red sharpie out of his pocket, picked up his sign, and scribbled on it. Once he was done, he proudly raised it to show the Dude.
The Dude read it and said, "Cool."
At the top, the sign still said: 'Homeless. Every bit helps.' Right below that, in red it said: 'God Bless.'
"You see, every time I get money, the stranger gets a blessing." Jeremy explained.
"Which one?" The Dude asked.
"Huh, what do you mean by, which one?" Jeremy asked.
"Which God?" The Dude clarified.
"What do you mean, which God?" Jeremy asked testily. "There is only one God."
"If you say so." The Dude replied.
“What? Is there more than one?” Jeremy was incredulous, this went against his childhood teachings.
“I know at least twenty-four.” The Dude said.
“Well, I'll be dam...” Jeremy hesitated, thought for a minute, and then said, “You know, most people don't know that so when I say, God Bless, they understand that it's their god who does the blessing.”
The Dude did not say anything.
Jeremy took out his flask, before he managed to open it, a car stopped at the light. The window rolled down and a black hand, holding some green cash, appeared.
Jeremy, seeing that the Dude was not going to get up, ran to the car and took the money with a pleased, “God Bless.” He put it in his pocket and headed back to the parapet and sat down.
"You see, exchange. It works." Jeremy said after the car left. He took a shot from the flask and handed it to the Dude, who did likewise.
Dude did not comment.
To continue the flow of conversation, Jeremy looked at the Dudes sign that said 'Homeless.'.
"You know, I could give you some ideas that you can add to your sign." He said while dreaming up some far-reaching business ideas.
Dude's face was briefly illuminated as he took another drag on his smoke. After the exhalation, he said, "Less is more."
Another car, black Honda, stopped at a light. The window rolled down but no hand extended from the window. The man behind the steering wheel was smoking. As the light changed to green, he looked at Jeremy and threw his cigarette butt at him.
Jeremy, outraged, stood up and started to yell at the driver who took off with screeching tires. The outrage was fake. Really, Jeremy was glad that this occurred so early in the night.
The reason for the gladness was that all three cars behind the fleeing Honda, stopped and gave Jeremy money in sympathy and real outrage at the injustice in the world.
After the last car, he came back, took another smoke from the Dudes pack, and said, “You know, less is more. I've heard that somewhere before. I think that one of them ancient philosophers said that.” He tried to remember the name and came up with, “Socries, or something was his name.”
“The one who made the statement had tentacles on his face.” The Dude replied.
Remembering the photos of the Greek statues representing Socrates and the fact that the beard on those statues resembled curled up tentacles, Jeremy said, “Yeah. That's the one. Socaries, for sure.” He lit up the cigarette and rubbed his eyes and face.
“Tired?” The Dude asked.
“Yeah, I've been having rough sleep lately.” Jeremy replied. “You know, I love this life of freedom from taxes and suppressive government. I'd never say otherwise but there is one thing that I miss.” Jeremy answered.
“Yeah?” The Dude asked.
“You know, good bed. I really miss a good, comfortable, soft bed.” Jeremy explained.
The Dude did not say anything.
Jeremy took another swig from the flash while several cars went by without slowing down. There was very little left in the flask and he briefly debated if he should keep it all to himself. He decided to be friendly and passed it to the Dude who took a long pull from the flask and handed it half-full back to Jeremy.
To lift the silence, Jeremy asked, “What did you do before? You know, before all this.” Jeremy indicated the clothing, the place they were sitting, and the rest of the world in one broad gesture.
For the first time since Jeremy knew the Dude, the Dude hesitated. The Dude took yet another pull on his smoke and said, “Creator.”
“What, like construction?” Jeremy asked.
“Yeah, like that.” The Dude answered.
“Cool. Create anything I've heard about?” Jeremy asked.
“Orion's belt.” The Dude replied.
Jeremy who knew of Oreos and never heard of Orion immediately associated it with the white cream inside the Oreos.
“Dude!” He said. “I love those. You must be a big man in the high up circles.” Jeremy said.
“You could say that.” The Dude answered.
“So, am, why are you here?” Jeremy asked.
The Dude smiled and stood up as a black Bentley pulled at the red light. He reached behind the fence and pulled out a long black overcoat and honest to god top hat and a cane. His shirt had turned pearl white and appeared to be glowing. His blue eyes had more in common with the stars than the aforementioned sapphires. He put on the overcoat and buttoned it up to the top, making his body almost invisible, he twirled his top hat a few times and put it on his head.
He absentmindedly tapped the ground with his cane and said, “I'm just having a quick smoke break from work. It’s a way to avoid responsibility. Who would ever in their wildest dreams imagine to look for me among the invisible homeless.”
Jeremy had his mouth wide open in shock and surprise.
“Don't worry, you will not remember any of this. I’ve been coming here for weeks. Your petty little problems are relaxing to me.”
The Dude got into the back seat of the car. The car took off in a smooth motion and disappeared around the bend.
Jeremy took out his flask and took a sip. He shuddered at the disgusting homebrew taste and put the flask back in his pocket. He reached for the pack of Marlboro and found it empty. “Damn.” he said. “I wonder if Dude is gonna show up tonight.”
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