Jimmy and my Camera

So, yesterday I brought my camera to my internship, because I wanted to take pictures of this "Sherman Oaks" place. This place that has me completely for two days of my week. I guess I really wanted to know if there was anything beautiful there, because the place kind of bores me. It's been about six weeks now, and I'm still not exactly in love with Sherman Oaks like I'm in love with Monterey, or Long Beach, or Fullerton, or even Salinas. You have to see something beautiful in some way before you fall in love. So that's what I was doing. Camera in hand, walking the streets of Sherman Oaks, trying to fall in love. I didn't even get to take my pictures yet before I met Jimmy. I wasn't really listening when he asked me what time it was. I had my headphones on. I miss a lot of important things becasue I have my headphones on. I told him what time it was, and he asked me to make sure that it was the time right now. At least I think that's what he said. I could only understand about 60% of what he said. There was something wrong with his speech, to the point that his speaking was almost unintelligible muttering. From what I understood, though, Jimmy wanted to be sure that the time was exact to that moment. Why? I have no idea. Maybe he just wanted the conversation to last a little longer. He found a way to make it last a little longer. Jimmy introduced himself and asked if I played football. I said I didn't. He asked why not. He said that I could make lots of money. He asked me what I was doing in Sherman Oaks. I told him about my internship. He asked me if it payed a lot of money. I said it didn't pay any money. He said I should go into the Air Force, because his friend in the Air Force got to travel around the world, and sleep and eat for free, with $1,000 a month. "not bad, not bad," he said. He kept talking about money a lot, so I thought he needed money. I didn't have any. I thought he asked me for money, and so I told him I didn't have any. "No, I don't need money," he said. I played football. Are you married?" I had to laugh. I guess there are a good number of people married by my age, but I still see myself as a barely recovering teenager. "No, I'm not married," I said. Jimmy said I should go into the Air Force, because his friend in the Air Force got to travel around the world, and sleep and eat for free, with $1,000 a month. "Not bad, not bad." Jimmy told me to be careful when I get married, because if I pick a woman who only cares about money, that she would divorce me, and lock me out of my house, and take my car. I told him that I'd be careful if I got married. "Not if! When! When!" Jimmy made a hand motion like cradeling a baby. "And you'll have lots of these," he said as he rocked his empy arms back and forth. He introduced himself again, and asked me if I played football. I said no. He said that I should, because I could make lots of money. Or I could join the Air Force. Jimmy and I talked for about half an hour, and I think we pretty much talked about just the Air Force, marriage, and football. I mostly listened, because I have absolutely zero information about either. Jimmy also told me to make lots of money, and buy a house. He showed me the football injury on his hand. He made me touch it. Jimmy tried to end our conversation several times, shaking my hand and saying goodbye, but he kept thinking of more things to say about the Air Force, marriage, or football. Finally, he had to go because he said he was hungry. "remember what I said to you," he called after me.
"I'll remember," I said.
"What did I say?"
I repeated what I could remember. He nodded, and walked off. I got started on my pictures at long last. I couldn't stop thinking about Jimmy. I had only taken about two pictures when I realized something. The only reason I ever fell in love with a place was because of the people that are there. There's nothing special about the city of Fullerton, except that three years ago I met this crazy guy named Tim Hsieh passing out free bottles of water my first week at a new school. The journey he invited me on, and the people I've met. Those are the beautiful things. Salinas is actually kind of a dumpy town, to be honest. But the picture I have in my head when I think of Salinas is of my mother, and my sisters, and maybe, maybe my brother too. Yeah him too. Even my Dad and my uncle. And his stupid dog that he sings too when he's drunk (my uncle, not my Dad). And Long Beach? Long beach is flooded with memories of little children laughing and playing, and making penguins out of olives and hard boiled eggs. It's the 11 crazy other people that spent six weeks starving and craving soda, and doing dishes with me. It's Libin's crazy leopard spotted sheets. It's staying up until 1 Am in the hallways talking, even though we need to be up at 6 the next morning. It's Minnie. Beautiful Minnie, with her whistling ringtone on her pink cell phone. How she taught me how to clean properly over and over again, and the way she would stop and pray for every little thing, no matter gow small it seemed. The way she brought me lemonade while I mopped the floor, even though she worked so much harder than me. I'm in love with all the places I've been because of the people I met there. I hadn't met anyone beautiful in Sherman Oaks yet. I suppose the people at my internship were all attractive and glamorous, but I'm not really talking about that. I realized that Jimmy was beautiful in the way that I was looking for. I ran to find him. He couldn't have gotten very far with his slow waddle-like gait. I finally found him outside Rite Aid, asking a woman what time it was. She told him. He tried to ask if that was the time right now, but she was already walking past him. When I caught up to him, he was asking someone else the same question. I said hi to Jimmy. He reacted like seeing an old friend. I asked him if I could take his picture. He at first said no, but when I said please really nicely, he agreed. He wanted a copy of the picture, so I asked hime if he had an email address. He didn't know what I meant, so I assumed he didn't. "Where can I find you?," I asked.
"I am...there," he said, and pointed to the El Pollo Loco across the street.
"Every day?" He nodded. He told me to let him know if I made lots of money.
"Okay, Jimmy, I'll see you later." He grabbed my hand.
"I don't need money," he said, looking me in the eye very seriously. He walked away, and somehow I knew that Jimmy was what I was looking for today. I don't understand most of what he said, or what his life must be like, but I can't help but wonder. I can imagine it must be difficult to have so much to say, and no one patient enough to wait until you have said it. I don't know how much good I can do for Jimmy, but I can listen. It seemed to be enough for him. I think I'll try to find Jimmy again. I think I need him as much as he could need me. I need to fall in love with this city. I need to know the people who are here.