“It’s good to smell you, Ace.”


I just ran into Blind Tony. He was standing in the darkness on Sproul Plaza at 10 o’clock at night. I wouldn’t have even recognized him. Except I spotted his cane.

“Tony how you doin,” I said.

“I’m doin fine,” he said. “Who is this?”

“It’s me, Ace,” I said.

“Oh,” he said.

“It’s good to see ya, Tony,” I said.

“It’s good to smell ya, Ace,” he said.

Ha ha. That was probably the line of the night. After being homeless all these years I’m a little ripe these days. Needless to say, blind people can recognize me. Ha ha.

“You need anything, Tony?” I said

“I could use a smoke,” he said.

“Oh I quit smoking,” I said. “But here’s some bucks to buy a pack.” (I’m probably guilty of virtue-signaling here. But when you see a blind homeless person you want to help them SOMEHOW. Even as you really can’t help them very much. All you can do is give them a couple of smokes.)

“I miss Duncan,” said Tony.

“Me too,” I said. “And I miss Hate Man. If Hate Man was here we could get some Virginia Slims.”

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