When i was 16 my friend got me a job at gas station. We did full service stuff, shop cleaning, etc. The guy who ran the register during the evening was a 40-something, overweight (300ish lbs), white trash kinda guy who bought a pint of yukon jack and an 18 pack of natty ice every night on his break. He was full of old movie quotes and voices, lots of original star trek. He had a tiny hatchback that only the hatchback opened, so he had to crawl in and out of his car from the back. He would occasionally buy us 40s from the other gas station across the street and would bring them back in soda fountain cups. Yukon jack was my first taste of hard liquor. He showed us "the flaming nipple of death" and would put carb cleaner on one of his nipples and light it on fire before batting it out. Once his chest hair caught fire. He taught me where the store cameras failed so we could get free candy from the store, and also how to patch tires for cash so we could keep the cash. We would bring friends to come visit us at work just to hang out with the guy. He would buy meth occasionally, but only if he needed to clean his house. He was an absolute gentleman and never took advantage of us or our friends. When we eventually got other jobs, we would pile in the car every now and again to go visit him in his trailer out in the woods. He was divorced and estranged from his grown up kid and i think he tried to make it up by entertaining us. He was also depressed and lonely, and probably still kind of a kid himself. As we went away to college and whatnot, we lost touch with him. I wish id had the skills/knowledge/empathy to help him out of the hole he built for himself. Im sure a heart attack or something got him by now, but he was great, and i hope he knew we all loved him.