Running Errands

 It's the first day of the month, errand day.  It gets e our of the house for a few hours and lets me hang out with a buddy.  We'll call him Hoss.  I net him at a rodeo, where he was pulling gates.

Hoss is disabled, he can't drive.  He grew up in California, worked a variety of jobs, and was in a professional rodeo crew.  The story is complicated.  His disability goes  all the way back to birth, ad his parents did the very best that they could for him.  His parents were in the produce business, owned a string of produce stands, and Hoss know more about tomatoes than anyone needs to know.  

Hoss is not on welfare.  His parents managed to put up enough money that, when they died, he inherited an annuity, and that's what he lives on.  It isn't much, but it pays the bills.  He can't drive, so I pick him  up on the first of the month, and take hi around to do his banking, and his grocery shopping, and a run to the liquor store.

I like hanging out with him, and while he can be a pain-in-the-ass, my life is richer for our friendship. I like hanging out with him.  I'm not really sure why he fell int central Louisiana, but I"m glad he's here.  Being a native Californian, he looks at the world through a weird lens.  Weird, at least, from a Louisiana perspective.

So, in another hour, I'll go get Hoss and run errands.  Then, we'll drop his groceries at his house and come to the shop, where we'll make lunch.  Belle is hungry for Sloppy Joes and Nacho-Cheese Doritos.

That sounds like a plan.