The Englishman was a long, long way from home. He operated a two seat bicycle rickshaw on Venice Beach as a way to support his other endeavours. He would usually work a few hours in the afternoon hauling tourists from one end of the boardwalk to the other, make a couple hundred bucks and say cheerio. It was near the turn of this century. He was just getting started one sunny afternoon, when a very serious man in a suit approached and wanted to hire him. A moment later, a second man in a suit escorted the late permanent A+++lister, who had a long history in Los Angeles to the rickshaw. The celebrity was thinly disguised in dark sunglasses, a cap, and a golf shirt, seemed unsteady, but was easily recognizable. The first man in a suit and the permanent A +++ lister got onto the rickshaw and the Englishman began pedaling up the boardwalk. The two passengers didn’t say anything as the rickshaw moved through hundreds of people. Nobody seemed to recognize the iconic passenger. After a few hundred yards, the suited man signaled the Englishman to turn back. The Englishman returned to where they had started and dropped the two men off. He lit a cigarette and trembled a little bit as he realized what had just happened.
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