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Those Annoying Paper Pushers

Dude from Flatbread feels bad about himself


This man refused to stop pushing his glossy business cards about his lousy flat bread. Everybody else on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams recognizes me. All the fellows with their glossy tri-folds, selling tours? You know them; they want to show you Zsa Zsa Gabor’s house, etc. When they see me, some of them say, “Hi!” Sometimes they are glum, if it’s a slow day. Sometimes they are glum if it’s a busy day. Sometimes they are cheerful. God only knows why. The point is – they recognize me and for the most part, knowing that I am a native, they leave me alone.

This man pushed his stupid glossy card in my face one time too many. He was standing there and swishing his hand back and forth as he walked, acting out with extreme disrespect towards the people who dared pass him on the sidewalk and NOT take a card. Who wants to take a card from somebody who is so obviously sick of what he’s doing? If he hates it so much, then quit. I know that there is 12% unemployment in L.A. but you can always get work, even if it’s cleaning toilets. I’d rather clean toilets than stand on the sidewalk in a state of frustration and humiliation. The take home message here is that nobody can make you feel badly about yourself but you. I’m paraphrasing the great Eleanor Roosevelt who was secretly talking to the Black population of America. It was a preamble to the “I am somebody” speech by Dr. Martin Luther King.

Well on this particular day, I was on my way to CVS to pick up my meds. I was in serious pain and suffering from fatigue as well. When he swished that card in my face and sneered at me, I let it out. One word- NO! I am sure you could hear me all the way from La Brea to Highland. I felt the sidewalk shake under my feet. People were grabbing light posts to keep from falling down. It was a mini-tremblor. He was shocked and terrified, realizing that he was messing with someone who could unleash the wrath of Hell. The next time I saw him, he was smart enough to look the other way as I passed. I gave him dagger eyes, just daring him. Just you try it! I psychically transmitted to him. He left me alone. This should be useful to those who find themselves being harassed by the same beggar every day, or other annoying paper pushers. Just take in a lungful of air and scream in their face with all the fury of, well…a Fury, No, no, a thousand times no!

Update – Concrete garden is quiet.

If you want a reminder of what it was like, just watch the video. If not, then that is all. These cops from Hollywood Station (Wilcox) do so hate to work. And they are so out of shape!


About Russell Smith

I was born at the American Hospital in Neuilly-sur-Seine, France. I find inspiration in the lives of so many people from Joan of Arc to Oscar Wilde. While my primary avocation is photography, I also enjoy philosophy, theology and most of all, history. My beloved wife, Robin Anne Smith, who passed away in 2013 is also an inspiration to me. My beloved partner, Dana is also a great support and inspiration to me. I'd be remiss if I did not mention my cats: Natasha, Maxwell, Tigger and Nigel.

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