Met him one January morning at a Mexican fastfood place. He was by himself, I was too.
On his way out I noticed his customized guitar case. “What kind of music do you play, man?”, I asked. That’s how we got to talking, however brief.
He had a long Spanish name, like Gabriel Garcia Marquez, but with 3 more names added. So, I asked if he had a short one. Ron, he answered. “You can call me Ron.”
He plays Rock N Roll, and said he’s on YouTube playing Welcome to the Jungle. He is a street performer, inviting me to catch him in Venice beach later that day. “I’ll play you a song”, he said. I won’t be able to make it and told him I had a feeling we will meet again. He seemed to agree.
I asked if I can take his picture with my phone. He obliged. “You look like an angel, man.” I told him as I showed him the image. He laughed, and patted me on the back. And started going on his way…he’s on his way to Pico and Western to get his 12-string guitar fixed.
Saw him standing at the bus stop. I cleaned up my table, walked towards the thrash bin. Then I looked back hoping to catch one last glimpse of him.
He was gone. I rushed towards the window to see if a bus passed by. No bus. No Ron.