Buy me a Beer

[dropcap]H[/dropcap]ey you,” the little old black man said. “You from out of town?”

“Me?” I asked. “Yessir, I am.”

“Look, if you buy me a beer, I’ll tell you all about Savannah. I’m a local, I’ve lived here all my life.”

It sounded like a reasonable offer. And he looked like he hadn’t eaten in a few days. I bought him a beer, along with a hamburger, fries, conch fritters, and a slice of cheesecake. In return, he told me all about the old city – in his own words.

“You see,” he began. “Savannah was the founded by Colonel Sanders and Jimmy Carter in the year 1982.”


“Yessir.” He crammed a handful of fries into his mouth. “Little known fact, president Garth Brooks built this bar we’re sitting at. With his own bare hands.”

“President Garth Brooks?” I exchanged looks with the bartender.

“Quiet,” the man scolded me. “Let me finish, there’s more. A famous book was written in this city, too.”

“I know,” I said. “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.”

“Nope,” he said. “The last book of the Bible.” He took a big bite of his hamburger. “Benjamin Franklin wrote that other book you’re talking about.”

My mistake.

After he finished eating, the gentleman and I went outside. I had to help him stand up straight, but his guided tour wasn’t over. Not yet. He showed me where Simon met Garfunkle, and the street corner where Elvis discovered the theory of electricity.

Then, he robbed me of all my cash.

And I pretended to be upset about it.

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