The Alaskan Cane Aficionado

There was a time when a cane was a normal part of my wardrobe due to an unfortunate accident involving a truck and myself as I walked through a crosswalk. This resulted in my tibia cracking in half and poking through my skin, all that bone and meat made me think of some juicy baby backs as the morphine went through my body (just kidding).

Funny thing though, I used to frequent a bar and I had the pleasure of meeting a drunk Alaskan Eskimo man with a deep deep DEEP southern accent who loved everything about cane's and rings, which made me suspicious maybe this was an Alaskan pimp on holiday in San Diego for the week.

So I'm on the patio about to sip my drink when I hear "Nice cane" and I turn around and the guy has two cigarettes sticking out the top of his pack as if to offer me one. I deny the cigarette and he begins talking again "You know...there's two things I like...cane's...and rings". I ponder this odd conversation we are starting for a second then I say, "are you a pimp?" and he suddenly replies "Hell no I ain't no pimp, I just like some goddamn cane's and rings". I also found it funny in retrospect how he said "there's two things I like" as if cane's and rings are the only two things he likes in life.

Next he asks me if he can see my cane, so I let him look, he flips it upside down and starts inspecting the rubber on the tip and asks "what brand of cane is this?". I look at him and say "I don't know man, the hospital gave it to me". He starts picking at the rubber, he asks "can I take this rubber tip off, the inside might have the brand". Now he is overreaching his cane privelages, I reply with a "no man, you fuck up the rubber and I won't be walking right, give me that shit back!".

He reluctantly gives the cane back at which point he tells me he wants to buy it from me, to which I replied no (I needed it to walk, otherwise the hustle's on). He also asked me if I had any rings (I didn't), then he showed me the rings he was wearing while I pretended to be interested and tried to force an "I gotta get going" into the conversation.

A few weeks after this encounter I started walking without the cane (St. Patty's 2010 mothafucka what!), but like The Notorious B.I.G. before me I was once a man with a cane, and I probably could have sold that cane to the Alaskan for a decent profit had I really wanted to.