I don’t recall when I first met Cheesy, although I should considering what a absolutely delightful character he was. I asked him once why he was called Cheesy and he gave me one of those wide-eyed stories which had been told many times over the years (with variations) to anyone who, like me dare to ask. I gathered that the story behind his nickname improved each time he told it to some unsuspecting soul like me.

Although he may have had his vices, he enjoyed life and made sure those around him did likewise. Whenever I mentioned to anyone that I knew Cheesy, their eyes would light up in approval and stories of untold magnitude about him would pour out. I guess I should have kept a dairy, not only would Cheesy have been one of the main characters, but had I kept a dairy and he knew of it, the stories that Cheesy told me would have been even more daring and flamboyant.

As for my tale about Cheesy, it involves beer, bratwurst, and Las Vegas. I was a tour guide for a trip to Las Vegas. Cheesy was along on the trip and ended up being my roommate. I didn’t mind as I figured I’d have new stories to tell about Cheesy when I returned home.

After arriving in Las Vegas and dropping a few nickels in the nearest slot machine, Cheesy was hungry and wanted me to accompany him to a local pub which served authentic Polish bratwurst and cold German beer. I’m sure one of the "coin change matrons" that Cheesy had just met told him about the place as it was several blocks away from the Vegas strip, down a dark alley, and across a few sleepy streets from the glamorous hotel where we were staying.

As soon as we had walked into the local pub, named the "Lucky Lady Saloon," Cheesy ordered "brats" and beer. I admit, the brats were genuine Polish and the beer was cold lager, just as Cheesy had promised. He never steered me wrong when it came to good food and drink, as Cheesy was well versed in both of these areas.

Most of the patrons in the saloon were local working people. I remember a cab driver and several casino workers to whom Cheesy and I ... well mostly to whom Cheesy spoke. It was not a rough crowd but it was loud, as this kind of a saloon generally draws hard working people who like to visit a friendly place after work in order to relax with a cold one or perhaps two.

We found that the local patrons in this joint had as many stories to tell as did Cheesy. It was fun to watch Cheesy swap stories with the locals, perhaps even cataloging some of their material for his use in the future.

We hear a lot about whether one’s attitude towards life is that of the glass being "half full or half empty". For Cheesy, the glass was always half full when he was around hard-working, blue collar people with stories to tell.

Cheesy didn’t seem to have a ton of money, and he wasn’t a famous man. What he did have was a capacity to enjoy being around people and telling wild tales.

Cheesy was unique and endearing. His attitude toward people was that there were no strangers, only new people to meet. He was a classic, fun-loving man who liked to share the laughter. I’m glad I got to know him, if only for a little while.

###

Return to Lessons Learned