Dallas: First Blood Part II
So I once again had the chance to “spot” Dallas Watson, although I think, technically, he spotted me first. Maybe it was a mutual spot. Anyways it was as always, an incredible honor. This time we had an oppurtunity to chat, unlike the last time when plowed through the City Hall parking lot, not breaking a single second to avoid hitting the peons at the volunteer car wash.
Dallas’ new shape resembles a barrel to me, more the kind full of salted meat than the powder keg he once was. He has lost the glasses, but gained the kind of pride in his step only a man who breaks his back everyday at a welding factory, making $11 an hour, can have. He was also most proud when talking about his “toy” a four-stroke Kawasaki four-wheeler… or dirtbike… I wasn’t really paying attention at that point. His alternator broke on his truck. One might say poetic justice for his lack of charity. He had suffered a layoff, found another job, then quit that one to resume work at the original job he was layed off at. He is married, she’s a quiet girl, with not much to say, not much at all. He declined to answer when asked about his involement/non-involvement with the Katrina goings-on.
His parting shot, where I saw a glimpse of the ol’ powder keg, was when I was leaving for lunch I heard a “LARRY!!” from behind, I turned and there he was, on his way out also, with a huge smile on his face.
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