Nanny Goats in Panties: September 2005

We decided to follow Leon today. It's been over a year since Dave & I followed him and have since been speculating about what kind of life he leads. In fact we speculated about it before we even followed him in the first place. Back before we found out his real name was Leon. Back when we called him Wimpy because he was a sort of roly-poly man who wore the same clothes every time we saw him and seemed to be at the In-N-Out Burger for lunch every time we were.

During the height of our low carb frenzy, when I would have my three-by-three-no-onions-with-ketchup-and-mustard-instead-of-the-sauce-protein-style burger and Dave would have his four-by-four-with-tomato-mustard-and-pickle-only, we began to notice another regular in addition to ourselves. Only to find out he was more regular than we were (or was he, with all those cheeseburgers?). Our sources indicated that not only did he dine there every day for lunch, but for dinner as well. Every time we saw him, he was already there at the same corner table, having slipped off his loafers, reading the paper. He wore the same blue and white thinly striped dress shirt, kinda sloppily tucked into his blue dress pants. He also wore a sleeveless zippered sweat shirt with a hood. He had (I say 'had', but it's really 'has', as he still lives and breathes, as far as we can tell) - he has a greasy-looking grey comb-over. His red, puffy cheeks wrap around a Baby Huey-like mouth. And he just looks a little shaky. Like his hands shake or something, I'm not quite sure.

So did this guy work for a living, we wondered. Did he live in the neighborhood? Inquiring minds wanted to know, so we jumped up one day to follow him out of the restaurant. The first time we followed him, we wanted to stay back so as not to be obvious and lost him almost immediately as he disappeared through a parking lot while we were calculating the best strategic distance to be behind him.

The next time we followed him a little closer, only to get caught standing next to him at a traffic light turning our heads and whistling innocently and then trying to follow him in parallel fashion from across the street when he darted into a mini-mart on Gayley Ave. We retreated back and around over to his side of the street and went into the mini-mart and couldn't find him. It was a mini-mart, he's a bit of a rotund fellow, and we lost him somehow. Yeah, we'd make fabulous spies.

Then one day, something different happened. He showed up at In-N-Out with what looked like a family. He sat at his table with a younger man and a woman and a baby. Leon was a Grandpa. I watched them as Leon cradled the baby protectively in his arms, his shoes still on underneath the table, and no newspaper to be found nearby. I was happy that Leon had a life outside of In-N-Out, but somehow I was sad too. I imagined that his son was visiting from some faraway place and that this was the first time Leon got to see his grandchild. And it was going to be a long time before he saw him or her again, because why on earth were they having lunch at an In-N-Out? I decided they were just passing through and had to get going, and well, if you want to see the baby, we could meet you for lunch or something. And so Leon invited them to his second home, the corner table at In-N-Out. Because there is no Grandma to invite them to their house for dinner. And his son knows the condition of the house and the neighborhood where Leon lives and didn't want to be caught dead there because for some reason he's too embarrassed, or he didn't want to be stuck there all night and having to make excuses to leave, so he reluctantly agreed to meet him for lunch, briefly feeling sorry for the old man, or because his wife would say something like, "It's his grandchild. He is old and lonely and deserves to see his only grandson from his only son, no matter what there is or is not between you two." It was tragic and sad, really. When you think about like that anyway.

But today, we were dying to know where he goes after lunch and before dinner every single day, so when he left, we jumped up after him. Trying to find that perfect following distance…and ZIP! He disappears into Whole Foods. Which is kind of odd, really. This guy eats cheeseburgers for lunch and dinner every day and he's suddenly got a hankering for something healthy? What gives? Well, we couldn't have him disappearing out some back door, so I ventured in after him and found him wandering the aisles and eventually exiting back out the front door.

So we're back on the trail following him around until he slips into the French Pastry Store. We discuss the fact that it was very possible that he has a sort of taste for quality food (since In-N-Out has high quality food, for cheeseburgers - they're fresh, and in our opinion, the best tasting), and if he's going to have a French Pastry for dessert, then maybe he was looking for some quality food (not necessarily wholesome or healthy) like an organic strudel or something at Whole Foods. A few minutes later he emerges with a small white bag, and undoubtedly, some French Pastry, which he managed to consume and throw its bag away within half a block.

Now he hangs a right on Wilshire. "Wow, this is the farthest we've ever gotten with him" says Dave. Just as we were postulating that he couldn't be going back to work since he seemed to be so going about everything so leisurely, he turns left into one of those large corproate buildings on Wilshire Blvd.

Dang.