After being kept up all night by a combination of the roaring storm and his inability to get the girl out of his head, Leroy headed out the doors of Washington heights. He was running on absolutely no sleep, but for some reason, did not even feel tired. He didn't know where he was headed but when his eyes wandered down the street- his stomach urged him to go to the bakery. As he walked down the damp sidewalk avoiding the occasional puddle as best he could he wondered what she was doing. Before he knew it he was passing the door to the bakery. He walked backwards three steps and pulled open the door. The aroma was so pleasing to his senses. He smelled the pastries and breads and his stomach began to growl. He gazed at the menu on the wall as the man on the other side stood impatiently waiting for him to make his decision. Before he could even make up his mind, a woman came storming in looking like hell on two feet. She impatiently demanded a blueberry bagel with strawberry cream cheese. Leroy wondered what it was about some of the people here. What were they always in such an angry rush for and why were they so rude? After she threw a five on the counter and snatched her bagel from the man, she stormed back out shoeless and angry as she did before.
"I'll get what the lovely lady got, make it easy on ya." Leroy said with a chuckle. "Must be pretty damn good if she wanted it bad enough to come stormin in here like that ta get it!"
As he ate his bagel, Leroy decided to go get his guitar. He felt a song comin on. When he got to his room- he realized he didn't want to be there. He wanted to compose his song outside. He walked back out of washington heights, guitar in hand, and began to wander aimlessly until he found a suitable quiet place to write a song. Something out of his control led him to a fallen tree branch. He knew it had to be from the storm and went over to take a look.
He stopped.
He couldn't breathe. It was the newspaper man pinned under the oak tree. He remembered him. Leroy grabbed an arm and tried to pull...and he realized that that was not gonna work. The poor guy. "HELPPP!" Leroy cried repeatedly. He yelled until he realized he'd never be heard and until he came to the fact that help wouldn't help this dead man. He sat and looked at the poor soul wondering why god chose him. He was glad that it hadn't been him- he still had a woman to meet and a singing career to make. He sat with him and looked and thought for what could have been an hour. Even though he had already gone, he wanted to write him a song. He wanted to keep this once lonely newspaper guy he saw on the street company. Leroy sat next to Fil and against the tree and began to strum his best tune yet. He didn't know it now, but it was the one that was going make him big. Not far away, Snazy was thinking of Leroy and set out to find him.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Blog Post #6- Thinkin' 'bout her by the elevator
The repetitive tune of the ice cream truck continued playing in his head as he walked into Washington Heights. The only things on his mind were the tune playing over and over and the magical image of the lovely lady at the bar. He couldn't figure out how to get either out of his head. As the door shut behind him, he looked a few yards ahead to see a young and beat up girl and another woman come very close to a collision. He watched them go their separate ways- the woman to the stairs and the girl to the elevator. How did the woman not take the time to talk to the poor bruised girl? He felt so sorry for the girl even though he didn't know her one bit. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to make sure she was alright and to see if she needed help. As the elevator door dinged, he started to walk faster to try and catch up to her. He got there as the doors were closing and even tried to stick his arm in the door to stop it. It closed anyway. Maybe he's see her another time. He just hoped she'd be ok.
As he waited for the elevator to come back again, his mind wandered back to this lady from the bar. He wondered what her name was, what her story was, but most of all: what floor she lived on. He imagined coming to her door and her jumping into his arms. He imagined them sitting close on a couch- him with his guitar in hand of course. He'd sing her a song or two and then he'd write her a song. He knew he could make a swell song about her. They'd be perfect together. She could come on tour with him- come to see him sing and know all the words to all his songs. He'd never felt this way before. He quietly said to himself, "She's the one!" As he snapped out of his day dream, still smiling to himself, he realized he'd missed the elevator again. The little button wasn't lit up anymore. He pressed it again and waited, still grinning. The ice cream truck began to sing it's tune outside and Leroy ran out- holding his hat to his head- to get himself a snow cone.
As he waited for the elevator to come back again, his mind wandered back to this lady from the bar. He wondered what her name was, what her story was, but most of all: what floor she lived on. He imagined coming to her door and her jumping into his arms. He imagined them sitting close on a couch- him with his guitar in hand of course. He'd sing her a song or two and then he'd write her a song. He knew he could make a swell song about her. They'd be perfect together. She could come on tour with him- come to see him sing and know all the words to all his songs. He'd never felt this way before. He quietly said to himself, "She's the one!" As he snapped out of his day dream, still smiling to himself, he realized he'd missed the elevator again. The little button wasn't lit up anymore. He pressed it again and waited, still grinning. The ice cream truck began to sing it's tune outside and Leroy ran out- holding his hat to his head- to get himself a snow cone.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Blog post #5 Butterflies
The noise of the crowded bar didn't stop Leroy from singing any different than he always did. He never let anything ever distract him while he was in his concert mode. People continued about their drunken conversations...which often revolved around criticizing Leroy. He didn't need much attention. He was used to not getting much from the people in the bar by now but he still had hope. He was reaching the final verse of his last song when he felt something unfamiliar. His eyes were closed as usual, but something felt different. It was like that feeling he got when he slept over at Cullen's once a long time ago. He was lying in bed- it felt like somebody was looking at him. He opened his eyes. Sure enough it was Cullen sittin there staring at him-waiting for him to wake up and play catch. Leroy tried to ignore the feeling... nobody was paying him any attention. Every time he's opened his eyes during a tune... all he gets are backs and side conversations. No eye contact. He felt it more. Somebody was looking at him. He opened his eyes to two eyes gazing into his. Not knowing quite how to react, he closed them back after a few seconds. How embarassin, he thought. That girl was kinda cute too. What was I thinking! Maybe she liked my song. Maybe she was readin my lips and learnin the words!
He thought about what to do. Should he open his eyes back? Why did he feel so funny? He got another feeling as he pictured the girl in his mind. It was different than eyes beating on him like the feeling before. It was more like being at the top of a roller coaster- having all those butterflies in your stomach and stuff. He opened his eyes. She was gone. Dag nab it. He'd lost his only could-be fan. Where'd she go? Why'd she leave? He thought. Why did he even care if she left... everyone else does all the time. Something was different about her. He hoped he'd see her again. He hoped she liked his songs too.
He thought about what to do. Should he open his eyes back? Why did he feel so funny? He got another feeling as he pictured the girl in his mind. It was different than eyes beating on him like the feeling before. It was more like being at the top of a roller coaster- having all those butterflies in your stomach and stuff. He opened his eyes. She was gone. Dag nab it. He'd lost his only could-be fan. Where'd she go? Why'd she leave? He thought. Why did he even care if she left... everyone else does all the time. Something was different about her. He hoped he'd see her again. He hoped she liked his songs too.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
blog post #4 What a Deal
Leroy woke up on the sofa. The T.V. was on and half his pork rinds were on his chest with the bag- the others on the floor. He blindly reached for the remote on the table and knocked over his empty beer cans from the night before. Cullen came in after hearing all the racket from the cans. "Well, 'mornin sleepin beauty! Couldn't even make it to the bed last night could ya... don't blame ya much. That match sure wasa good one. I was watchin it myself!" Cullen said of the WWF wresling match that was on the night before.
"Nah, Cullen. It was just the concert. Wore me out. Man, sure was a thrill though. I think the crowd liked me just fine! They just, ya know need some more of Leroy before they can really get wild. They dont know all the words yet. They will. They will." Leroy said. "You know what, Ima go look for a paper and eat me some REAL breakfast at the diner. Wanna come Cul?"
"Nah, I've got things to do. You go right on. But hey... bring me back some grits and a biscuit, hear?"
Leroy stood up from the couch and brushed off his pork rinds. He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his hand over his face before he put on his hat. He walked out the door and headed down the empty elevator out the front door of Washington Heights. He looked to the left and to the right down the street in search of a paper machine as he reached in his pocket for a quarter. He was looking for one like they had by the corner store in Paintlick. There wasn't one in sight. He looked ahead and saw a measley guy with a can and a stack of papers accross the street. He walked over to the guy and asked him what they need machines for when they've got great guys like him sellin papers. "An its for a NICKEL, not a quarter!" Leroy exclaimed as he dropped him a nickel into the can. The guy just glared back at Leroy. "What a deal, thank ya sir!" Leroy tipped his hat and walked in the street with his nose in the paper. He was well on his way to a hearty breakfast to get him ready for his show that night. He was ready to just sit back and read his 5 cent paper, either. He couldn't wait to see what was going on in Paintlick. Too bad Paintlick isn't often mentioned in the papers there.
"Nah, Cullen. It was just the concert. Wore me out. Man, sure was a thrill though. I think the crowd liked me just fine! They just, ya know need some more of Leroy before they can really get wild. They dont know all the words yet. They will. They will." Leroy said. "You know what, Ima go look for a paper and eat me some REAL breakfast at the diner. Wanna come Cul?"
"Nah, I've got things to do. You go right on. But hey... bring me back some grits and a biscuit, hear?"
Leroy stood up from the couch and brushed off his pork rinds. He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his hand over his face before he put on his hat. He walked out the door and headed down the empty elevator out the front door of Washington Heights. He looked to the left and to the right down the street in search of a paper machine as he reached in his pocket for a quarter. He was looking for one like they had by the corner store in Paintlick. There wasn't one in sight. He looked ahead and saw a measley guy with a can and a stack of papers accross the street. He walked over to the guy and asked him what they need machines for when they've got great guys like him sellin papers. "An its for a NICKEL, not a quarter!" Leroy exclaimed as he dropped him a nickel into the can. The guy just glared back at Leroy. "What a deal, thank ya sir!" Leroy tipped his hat and walked in the street with his nose in the paper. He was well on his way to a hearty breakfast to get him ready for his show that night. He was ready to just sit back and read his 5 cent paper, either. He couldn't wait to see what was going on in Paintlick. Too bad Paintlick isn't often mentioned in the papers there.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Blog Post #3 The Big Night
"Ya gettin ready for ya big night there Leroy?" Cullen asked as he walked in on Leroy who'd been tuning his guitar for what seemed like an hour and a half. "Justa let ya know, don't think they'll notice much if yer strings aren't tuned to a T. Ya are playin for a buncha drunks aint ya?" They both laughed.
"You got a point...but hey. May as well practice fer my big concerts. Ya know like when catch my break and stuff... go on tour an all that. Can't be outa tune then!" Leroy continued to tune and practice his guitar until nine when it was time for him to head down to the bar. Along the way he was sure to tell everyone he saw -on the sidewalk, in the elevator- about his "concert" that night. He was sure there'd be a crowd anyway but more folks couldn't hurt! Besides it was already drizzling outside and was only supposed to get worse. Surely folks would need something to do to keep dry.
He walked in and introduced himself to the manager and anyone else he happened to see. The manager pointed him to the stage he was going to be playing on- or rather the old platform with a bar stool and a microphone. Within minutes Leroy had his guitar out strumming a few notes as he talked to the measley two people trying to watch the game at a table and the three seemingly depressed people equally spaced two stools apart at the bar. "How is everybody tonight?" He unnecessarily yelled into the microphone. "My first song isa little something I wrote 'bout my hometown Paintlick. That is the fabulous Paintlick, Kentucky. Home of the best BBQ east otha Mississippi! Yall really gotta try it out if your ever passin through. Well yall. Here it is hope ya like it." He stopped strumming for a second to take off his cowboy hat and place it in front of him upside down for tips. Thats what he'd seen folks do before.
He strummed a couple notes and began to belt out his first of many twangy country songs for the night. The people in the bar couldn't hide the dumbfounded looks on their faces. "Who the hell is this guy? And what is he doing here?" One man leaned to ask his fellow drunk at the bar. Leroy wasn't singing to much of anybody but it didn't stop him from singing his best and loudest. The people went from being in shock, to trying to tune him out, to obviously annoyed. Leroy kept on singing. Half the time his eyes were either squinted or closed because he was so into it...he didn't even notice their reactions. People who came in were more than confused. Poor guy, they thought.
"I'll see ya all tomorrow! Enjoy yer night ya hear. Don't drink too many more fellas!" He said as he pointed to the guys at the bar as he walked out of the smoky bar into the drizzling rain. He counted his change he got in tips and realized it was just enough for a bag of pork rinds. He walked in, passed the produce to the chip stand next to the register. It was obvious nobody else cared much for pork rinds judging by the dust on the package. He stood behind two women waiting to check out. One was buying pears and the other apples. He noticed that her fingers weren't much less plump than the apples she was buying when he saw them as she handed the man a five dollar bill. Looked like he had a lot of fives in her wallet when she dropped them on the floor. He reached to pick them up as some woman who looked like she fell into her daughters dress up trunk got to them first.
"Well ya beat me to it miss, I coulda got that! My name's Leroy... Pickler that is. Leroy Pickler's the name." The two women awkwardly said "I'm Lola" and "I'm Delilah" and turned back around. "Ya know...I had a girlfriend back in Paintlick named Delilah." Neither of them turned around and continued to ignore Leroy. They thought he must be crazy or something. Why was he talking so much?
They left. Leroy paid in change and headed back to his apartment, ready to lay back, get out of his wet boots, pop open a beer, and eat his pork rinds.
"You got a point...but hey. May as well practice fer my big concerts. Ya know like when catch my break and stuff... go on tour an all that. Can't be outa tune then!" Leroy continued to tune and practice his guitar until nine when it was time for him to head down to the bar. Along the way he was sure to tell everyone he saw -on the sidewalk, in the elevator- about his "concert" that night. He was sure there'd be a crowd anyway but more folks couldn't hurt! Besides it was already drizzling outside and was only supposed to get worse. Surely folks would need something to do to keep dry.
He walked in and introduced himself to the manager and anyone else he happened to see. The manager pointed him to the stage he was going to be playing on- or rather the old platform with a bar stool and a microphone. Within minutes Leroy had his guitar out strumming a few notes as he talked to the measley two people trying to watch the game at a table and the three seemingly depressed people equally spaced two stools apart at the bar. "How is everybody tonight?" He unnecessarily yelled into the microphone. "My first song isa little something I wrote 'bout my hometown Paintlick. That is the fabulous Paintlick, Kentucky. Home of the best BBQ east otha Mississippi! Yall really gotta try it out if your ever passin through. Well yall. Here it is hope ya like it." He stopped strumming for a second to take off his cowboy hat and place it in front of him upside down for tips. Thats what he'd seen folks do before.
He strummed a couple notes and began to belt out his first of many twangy country songs for the night. The people in the bar couldn't hide the dumbfounded looks on their faces. "Who the hell is this guy? And what is he doing here?" One man leaned to ask his fellow drunk at the bar. Leroy wasn't singing to much of anybody but it didn't stop him from singing his best and loudest. The people went from being in shock, to trying to tune him out, to obviously annoyed. Leroy kept on singing. Half the time his eyes were either squinted or closed because he was so into it...he didn't even notice their reactions. People who came in were more than confused. Poor guy, they thought.
"I'll see ya all tomorrow! Enjoy yer night ya hear. Don't drink too many more fellas!" He said as he pointed to the guys at the bar as he walked out of the smoky bar into the drizzling rain. He counted his change he got in tips and realized it was just enough for a bag of pork rinds. He walked in, passed the produce to the chip stand next to the register. It was obvious nobody else cared much for pork rinds judging by the dust on the package. He stood behind two women waiting to check out. One was buying pears and the other apples. He noticed that her fingers weren't much less plump than the apples she was buying when he saw them as she handed the man a five dollar bill. Looked like he had a lot of fives in her wallet when she dropped them on the floor. He reached to pick them up as some woman who looked like she fell into her daughters dress up trunk got to them first.
"Well ya beat me to it miss, I coulda got that! My name's Leroy... Pickler that is. Leroy Pickler's the name." The two women awkwardly said "I'm Lola" and "I'm Delilah" and turned back around. "Ya know...I had a girlfriend back in Paintlick named Delilah." Neither of them turned around and continued to ignore Leroy. They thought he must be crazy or something. Why was he talking so much?
They left. Leroy paid in change and headed back to his apartment, ready to lay back, get out of his wet boots, pop open a beer, and eat his pork rinds.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Blog Post #2 Whats goin' on with this place?
"Cuuulllllllen!" Leroy hollered over the blaring NASCAR race as he walked into the unlocked room 808.
"Leroy?" Cullen said in disbelief as he peered out of his bedroom door in his underwear with . "Well, I'd recognize that voice anywhere! What in god's name are you doin' here?" He gave him a big hug with three firm pats on the back.
"Well, I knew you'd like some company in this uh.... place.. and I needed to hurry up and try and catch my big break. Paintlick just wasn't the place to do it. That bar down the street sounded like a right nice place for me. What do ya think Cullen?"
Cullen chuckled as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "Well, I don't know if I'd call it right nice but hey! You gotta start somewhere. I'd say thats an idea. Hell, if noone else'll watch ya, I will. I need somethin to do at night besides sittin in this dump! I don't know how much money I got to tip ya though, yer on ya own with that! But hey, I'll give the manager a ring and let him know yer comin to play at nights. We got pretty close since I been in there so much. I know he'd be open to mucha anything. You should be set there buddy!
They both laughed and kept talking like they did when they were kids. After he settled in and a couple hours went by, Leroy wandered out the door and into the hall. Every time he got a second to look around he took it. This place-Baltimore-this apartment-these people he saw around- were all nothing like he'd ever seen in his life. He walked to the elevator and mashed the button. He jumped when he heard the "ding" and looked to see a lit up arrow pointing upwards. The door opened and he just stared at the old woman holding a load of groceries and the boy in the elevator reading a magazine, and they stared back at him. After an awkward pause due to the two wondering why he wasn't getting on... the boy said "Going UP cowboy?" in an irritated tone.
Leroy didn't know where he was going. As the elevator let out an annoyed zzzzzzzzzzz for Leroy to hurry up and get on. He said, "Seems so! Up sounds like a right nice place to be headed. Don't wanna be goin down. Not with the big break I'm tryina catch! Ma'am you look like you've got yer hands full!" He reached and grabbed her bags. "Here ya go son. Help out yer granny!" he handed the boy half of the bag. The old woman and the boy just looked at him with confusion and disbelief. The old woman said uncomfortably, "Th-thank you sir, that sure is nice of you. I wish Alexander here were half the gentleman!"
He put the bags on their counter, shook their hands and tipped his hat. "Now yall take care, ya hear?" He wondered why they were so uncomfortable with him. He was only trying to help, that's just what you do...help folks right? He wandered down the street to the diner. All he was some sweet tea. He took off his hat and glanced around to find everyone staring at him. "How yall doin this fine afternoon?" No response. He had a seat and the waitress, named "Mandi" according to her tag asked him what he wanted. "Sweet tea and an extra bowl of lemons, thank ya ma'am." As somebody at the next table overheard and turned around and laughed- she informed that they didn't have it "up here."
Leroy sat and wondered what was going on with this place.
"Leroy?" Cullen said in disbelief as he peered out of his bedroom door in his underwear with . "Well, I'd recognize that voice anywhere! What in god's name are you doin' here?" He gave him a big hug with three firm pats on the back.
"Well, I knew you'd like some company in this uh.... place.. and I needed to hurry up and try and catch my big break. Paintlick just wasn't the place to do it. That bar down the street sounded like a right nice place for me. What do ya think Cullen?"
Cullen chuckled as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "Well, I don't know if I'd call it right nice but hey! You gotta start somewhere. I'd say thats an idea. Hell, if noone else'll watch ya, I will. I need somethin to do at night besides sittin in this dump! I don't know how much money I got to tip ya though, yer on ya own with that! But hey, I'll give the manager a ring and let him know yer comin to play at nights. We got pretty close since I been in there so much. I know he'd be open to mucha anything. You should be set there buddy!
They both laughed and kept talking like they did when they were kids. After he settled in and a couple hours went by, Leroy wandered out the door and into the hall. Every time he got a second to look around he took it. This place-Baltimore-this apartment-these people he saw around- were all nothing like he'd ever seen in his life. He walked to the elevator and mashed the button. He jumped when he heard the "ding" and looked to see a lit up arrow pointing upwards. The door opened and he just stared at the old woman holding a load of groceries and the boy in the elevator reading a magazine, and they stared back at him. After an awkward pause due to the two wondering why he wasn't getting on... the boy said "Going UP cowboy?" in an irritated tone.
Leroy didn't know where he was going. As the elevator let out an annoyed zzzzzzzzzzz for Leroy to hurry up and get on. He said, "Seems so! Up sounds like a right nice place to be headed. Don't wanna be goin down. Not with the big break I'm tryina catch! Ma'am you look like you've got yer hands full!" He reached and grabbed her bags. "Here ya go son. Help out yer granny!" he handed the boy half of the bag. The old woman and the boy just looked at him with confusion and disbelief. The old woman said uncomfortably, "Th-thank you sir, that sure is nice of you. I wish Alexander here were half the gentleman!"
He put the bags on their counter, shook their hands and tipped his hat. "Now yall take care, ya hear?" He wondered why they were so uncomfortable with him. He was only trying to help, that's just what you do...help folks right? He wandered down the street to the diner. All he was some sweet tea. He took off his hat and glanced around to find everyone staring at him. "How yall doin this fine afternoon?" No response. He had a seat and the waitress, named "Mandi" according to her tag asked him what he wanted. "Sweet tea and an extra bowl of lemons, thank ya ma'am." As somebody at the next table overheard and turned around and laughed- she informed that they didn't have it "up here."
Leroy sat and wondered what was going on with this place.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Leroy Pickler Apt. 808
All Leroy Pickler ever wanted was to be famous. He didn't care about anything else. He never cared much for school, and he dropped out when he was fifteen. His youth was spent playing his guitar to the country songs he wrote during the time he was supposed to be in school. He just knew that one day he'd make it big, even though nobody else except his second cousin Cullen even remotely thought he had a chance. After Cullen moved to Baltimore to get out of Paintlick, Kentucky, it suddenly dawned on Leroy that in order to make it big he'd have to get himself known by folks other than his 3-5 supporters in Paintlick. One morning he decided he was ready to get out of Paintlick for his first time, and knew the only place for him to go was to go live with Cullen in Baltimore. He was sure he wouldn't mind. He had mentioned having an empty couch in his last letter. He heard him talk about some bar, and Leroy knew it'd be a great place to start his gig. Leroy wanted to make a life for himself other than taking over the family farm and he knew if he stayed longer, he'd be sucked in. He hopped on a greyhound in his overalls with his guitar and the little money he had, and headed for Baltimore without a bone of regret in his body. He walked on the bus and put the coins he had in the slot.
"Mornin' sir!" Leroy said as he tipped his cowboy hat to the bus driver. "The name's Leroy. Leroy Pickler. I'm headed to Baltimore to see my cousin and to start up my singin career. You know, you sure are nice to be driving us folks around like this. I sure don't know how in heck I'd be gettin' all the way up there without---"
"Have a seat!" Said the aggrivated bus driver. "We won't be gettin nowhere with you wasting mine and everybody else's time like this."
"Well sorry, sir. You sure are right but there's no need to get yer boxers in a bunch. After all, you are talkin to Leroy Pickler. I'm 'bout to be famous ya know. Oh, and here's where i'ma headin." He handed the driver an old envelope from one of Cullen's letters with the return address of apt. #808 of Washington Heights in Baltimore. He took a seat somewhat confused as to why the driver not to mention everyone was looking at him so funny. He was in for an awakening. He was venturing out of the walls of the pretty and friendly little town of Paintlick. He couldn't have been more ready to get out, though. He was just ready to start on his road to stardom. When the bus stopped hours later in front of Washington Heights, Leroy simply continued to stare out the window patiently waiting for his stop.
"Here ya are Leroy!" The driver chucked. "It's your stop!"
Leroy just laughed. There was no way it was his.
"Get out."
Leroy stepped out onto the dumpy street and stared up at the worn out building. It's not exactly what he pictured. But then again, he'd never seen much of anything but Paintlick so he didn't know what to picture. He wasn't quite a fan of elevators, so he took eight flights up the cruddy stairs to #808, he was ready to say hello to his cousin he hadn't seen in years, but even more ready to hurry and find out where this bar was. He just knew he would be an instant hit. After all, who wouldn't like Leroy Pickler?
"Mornin' sir!" Leroy said as he tipped his cowboy hat to the bus driver. "The name's Leroy. Leroy Pickler. I'm headed to Baltimore to see my cousin and to start up my singin career. You know, you sure are nice to be driving us folks around like this. I sure don't know how in heck I'd be gettin' all the way up there without---"
"Have a seat!" Said the aggrivated bus driver. "We won't be gettin nowhere with you wasting mine and everybody else's time like this."
"Well sorry, sir. You sure are right but there's no need to get yer boxers in a bunch. After all, you are talkin to Leroy Pickler. I'm 'bout to be famous ya know. Oh, and here's where i'ma headin." He handed the driver an old envelope from one of Cullen's letters with the return address of apt. #808 of Washington Heights in Baltimore. He took a seat somewhat confused as to why the driver not to mention everyone was looking at him so funny. He was in for an awakening. He was venturing out of the walls of the pretty and friendly little town of Paintlick. He couldn't have been more ready to get out, though. He was just ready to start on his road to stardom. When the bus stopped hours later in front of Washington Heights, Leroy simply continued to stare out the window patiently waiting for his stop.
"Here ya are Leroy!" The driver chucked. "It's your stop!"
Leroy just laughed. There was no way it was his.
"Get out."
Leroy stepped out onto the dumpy street and stared up at the worn out building. It's not exactly what he pictured. But then again, he'd never seen much of anything but Paintlick so he didn't know what to picture. He wasn't quite a fan of elevators, so he took eight flights up the cruddy stairs to #808, he was ready to say hello to his cousin he hadn't seen in years, but even more ready to hurry and find out where this bar was. He just knew he would be an instant hit. After all, who wouldn't like Leroy Pickler?
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