Ah, Pete!  How do I describe him?  He's an alcoholic, a functioning alcoholic.  He starts bright and early in the morning, buying his first forty ounce King Cobra by 8am, maybe finishing the day with his seventh....maybe eighth King Cobra. He may even sprinkle a few other beers in between. He works at a taxi business across the road, doing odd jobs such as cutting grass, car maintenance, cleaning cars, even an occasion or two as dispatcher.  Pete's birthday is July 16.  Why do I know?  Because he makes a big deal about it, expecting a birthday beer from me.

  "Pete" is not his real name.  He actually has plenty of names from friends across town: Petey Joe, Little Pete, Big Pete, Pedro, the list probably goes on and on.

   I'm not entirely sure he gets paid or if the drivers just give him change for a beer.  That's typically what he pays with, lots of change, especially pennies.  It would not be unusual for him to pay in all pennies, usually shy a nickel or dime or even a quarter.

Pete:  Hey, hey, hey Travis!

Me: Yes, Pete?

Pete:  Give me a nickel.

Me:  I don't have one to give you.

Pete:  C'mon, give me a dime.

Me:  if I don't have a nickel, then why would I have a dime to give you?

  I sometimes let him slide if he's short on change, but not too often.  Give an inch, take a mile...

  Pete enjoys hanging out with me, even claiming that I'm his buddy.  He is fun to talk to most times.  If Pete likes you, he'll talk and talk about the good Ol days like when he played football in high school in Charlotte.  Or he'll talk about the bitches, his two wives, one is deceased and the other is divorced.  The divorced one actually stabbed him.  He may talk about the city police and how they harass him ( probably true).

Sometimes he goes off on major tangents in a drunken state and I truly have no clue what he says.  There's never really a dull moment.

One Saturday night, about two hours before closing, a guy, who I'd never seen before walked into the store.  He walked slowly around the store, very suspicious.  He asked about the coffee, poured a cup and sat down.  He poured another coffee, then walked outside and stood there.  He walked back in after finishing his cup and moved about suspiciously.  Then he walked outside again and stood.  About that time, Pete walked into the store.  

Pete:  I saw that guy from the Taxi stand and I thought I'd come check on my buddy, Travis.

Mek, Pete.

To tell you the truth, I was quite relieved to see Pete. That guy was seriously giving me the creeps.  Pete said he was gonna stay here and watch after that guy.  He stood there with me for nearly an hour until that guy left.  He told me he was ready to fight, he had my back.  He wasn't gonna let anything happen to his pal, Travis.  

  I found out , from a cop who is a regular, that the mysterious guy was just a local homeless man who walked around from store to store, drinking coffee. He was harmless. Of course, we did not know any of that that night. I admired Pete for staying with me that night, my backup.

Pete:Hey, hey, hey, Travis

Me: Yes, Pete.

Pete:  do you remember that night that crazy guy came here drinking all that coffee?

Me:  Yeah, Pete, that was last night.   To tell you the truth, it was kinda scary

Pete:  Hey, hey Travis?  Do you remember I showed up?

Me: yes, I appreciate that.

Pete:  That's what friends are for.  We are pals, I'm gonna watch out for my good buddy, Travis. Nothing's gonna happen.  I always watch out for my friends.  Let me hold fifty cent.

I guess I both envy and feel sorry for Pete.