THIS IS … well, I don’t know his name in spite of having known him more than a decade.
Twelve or so years ago he walked our streets with a cardboard jar requesting donations for a drug-rehab center. I don’t know if he was a patient or just a helper. I suspect the former.
But that didn’t last very long — a couple of years — and then he started selling churros, a sugar-coated pastry. He’s been doing that on downtown streets ever since.
You can hear him coming a block away as he yells churros, churros, churros. Sometimes I buy one to go with my café Americano negro. That’s what I did yesterday.
He totes the basket and loops that collapsible stand over his forearm. And he’s always very upbeat.
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(Note: For a superior version of this shot and other fabulous photos, take a look here.)
