Droopy Hits the Scene

Droopy will be a new character in the George and the gang tales as he has been a frequent visitor as of late. I call him Droopy in that he reminds me of that cartoon dog from my childhood. His face looks like it was wax and started melting and sliding off his face. He has some pretty prominent jowls. I debated on calling him the “Black Paul Bunyan” as he always wears a knit wool cap, red colored flannel shirts, and old style pants with suspenders. The only thing missing to complete that image would have been an axe thrown over his shoulder instead of his usual backpack. I guess Droopy shall suffice.

I and Droopy used to work together years ago in the local Martex towel warehouse so we are familiar with each other. I drove a forklift and Droopy’s job was to walk around all night with a large pole and make sure the conveyor belts were running smoothly and that no cases of towels backed up in jams. Everyone envied him of his job as we were all busting our asses on production and he just got to leisurely walk around all night with a pole in his hand. Droopy eventually got laid off and lives on his social security checks each month. He must be in his mid-sixties now.

This morning Droopy was sitting on a bench with a forty ounce bottle of malt liquor in a brown paper bag. It was a chilly morning and seeing that cold beer in his hand made me want to shiver. Droopy was talking to Slop. Slop called me over.

“Did you be hearin’ what happened to HIV/AIDS Guy?” He asked.

“Yeah, George told me about it the other day,” I replied. “That dumb ass finally got caught. I knew it was going to happen.”

“Dis here be Droopy (Slop actually said his real name),” Slop said.

We both shook hands.

“We know each other,” I said. “We used to work together.”

I and Droopy talked for a long time catching up on old times about our experiences working in that towel warehouse. Droopy filled me in on what some of the fellows we used to work with have been up to these days. I then lit up a cigarette.

“You couldn’t spare a cigarette, could you?” Droopy asked.

Slop interrupted.

“Don’t be askin’ dat stingy mutherfucka for no cigarettes,” Slop said. “He won’t give you one.”

I would have let him bum a cigarette since he was an old coworker, but couldn’t do it in the presence of Slop. It would have set a precedent and Slop would start pestering me again like he used to do. For some reason, these fellows all smoke, but never seem to have cigarettes.

“What ever happened to that pretty girl you used to date?” Droopy asked. “You know, the one with the black hair and pretty green eyes.”

“You mean Leslie?” I asked. “God, she is ancient history.”

It had been probably ten years since I had even thought about that woman.

“I bet she sure was one good piece of ass to come home to,” Droopy said with a big grin.

“Man, she was actually the lamest person in bed I have ever had,” I replied. “She just laid there and did nothing.”

We all laughed.

“That sho be a shame,” Droopy replied. “She sure was a looker.”

“Well, fellas, I am headed down to the diner to get some breakfast,” I said. “Good to see you Droopy.”

We both shook hands again. Slop made some comment about me bringing him back something to eat. I just ignored him. I then started the short walk down to Merl’s diner for a late breakfast.