It's the Little Things
Bouncer takes to Emmy's Spaghetti Shack, shares story about the vertically challenged
"Nah," said Tilden. "They kicked him out."
I felt like someone had socked me in the stomach. I couldn't finish my spaghetti. All I could think about was Little Buddy, living in some drainpipe under a bridge, or wedged into a mailbox to keep out of the rain. Jesus, they could have at least dressed him up like a jockey and had him stand in the yard during the day to earn his keep. I was more than a little sad.
There was only one way to make myself feel better, and that was to convince myself that this was an urban myth. All one has to do to prove that it's a myth is to find someone else out there with a similar story, then we will know that Little Buddy never was. The other thing that could happen that would bring me succor would be if someone knew where Little Buddy was, and he could come live with me. I have a nice roll-top desk fit for sleeping.
The waitress brought us a dessert menu on a tiny little clipboard, handwritten with markers. A panhandler called us assholes when we told him to leave our table, but dude was at least 5 feet tall and not on my charity radar at that moment. Little Buddy, if you are out there, I am here for you. Call me.
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