Wow, Oops … A lot to talk about here. Were any shoes around? Look at the condition of the bottom of his foot. His jeans appear to be torn by design, not by wear. What time was this shot … Night? Day? Sunday AM? I assume the place is a bar/grille/restaurant given the tequila placards on the wall. Did he pass out from too much to drink and do the smart thing? Not drive home? All of these unanswered questions could lead to a piece of Flash Fiction. “I think I’ll just Stretch out here … for a night.”
The title ‘Last Call’ I thought cute but it is really misleading. He is not a customer but homeless, I’ve seen him on the streets many times. Yes, that is a sidewalk tavern and there’s even a keg inside the window, but he’s not ever their customer. It is circa 11:00 am. His feet stink and are gross enough to make you look away when you see them up close. I didn’t have the impression those were designer cuts, but they may originally have been. There were some flimsy canvas slip-on shoes a few feet away on a bench which I actually took a picture of but seem to have discarded as being irrelevant to my purposes. There is however, (attached in a private email, Richard – notice the unused toilet paper sticking out of his unbuttoned shorts), another picture of him, and I have a third one of him from months ago but I can’t find it right now. He doesn’t mumble to himself or get up in your face but I keep a healthy distance from him. He exudes the kind of “I don’t give a fuck about anyone” that makes him dangerous.
Recently I have begun to explore a new genre, street photography.
The thrill is palpable in never quite knowing what’s down the alley and around the corner and whether it’s friendly, or not.
I’m learning as I go.  And as long as I don’t stumble over a tripwire or step on a punji stick I hope to post interesting images for your enjoyment.
Wow, Oops … A lot to talk about here. Were any shoes around? Look at the condition of the bottom of his foot. His jeans appear to be torn by design, not by wear. What time was this shot … Night? Day? Sunday AM? I assume the place is a bar/grille/restaurant given the tequila placards on the wall. Did he pass out from too much to drink and do the smart thing? Not drive home? All of these unanswered questions could lead to a piece of Flash Fiction. “I think I’ll just Stretch out here … for a night.”
Good job.
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July 27, 2015 at 2:32 pm
The title ‘Last Call’ I thought cute but it is really misleading. He is not a customer but homeless, I’ve seen him on the streets many times. Yes, that is a sidewalk tavern and there’s even a keg inside the window, but he’s not ever their customer. It is circa 11:00 am. His feet stink and are gross enough to make you look away when you see them up close. I didn’t have the impression those were designer cuts, but they may originally have been. There were some flimsy canvas slip-on shoes a few feet away on a bench which I actually took a picture of but seem to have discarded as being irrelevant to my purposes. There is however, (attached in a private email, Richard – notice the unused toilet paper sticking out of his unbuttoned shorts), another picture of him, and I have a third one of him from months ago but I can’t find it right now. He doesn’t mumble to himself or get up in your face but I keep a healthy distance from him. He exudes the kind of “I don’t give a fuck about anyone” that makes him dangerous.
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July 27, 2015 at 6:13 pm
RIP
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August 11, 2015 at 7:33 am