November 13th, 2005

The Fuller Brush Man

In a fair world, the Fuller Brush Man would have been born in Hollywood at the turn of the century and ended up making a fortune playing rogues in dusky film noirs. He has that underworld, dank charisma of Bogart with a touch of Peter Lore thrown in for spice.

Alas, we can not decide our fate - so instead of a mansion in the Holywood hills, he is instead cast in the role of Montpellier's toothless roue.

Perhaps toothless is a strong word - there are some choppers there - the missing ones are simply a testiment to the wonderful British National Healthcare System.

As it is, The Fuller Brush Man is a man of many talents. Web designer (he did this page), painter, carpenter, professional backgammon player.

While often out of work for one reason or another, he does have a surprising work ethic. Just the other day he was doing hard carpentry for Fitzpatrick's - while he broken arm was still in a sling.

He also attack everything he does with a bitter, masculine vengence. To wit here is some sample of what it sounds like to hear him and me play backgammon against each other for money.


"Stupid cunt!"

"Cheating wanker!"

"Fuck you, you fat fuck!"

"Fuck you, you toothless wonder!"

"Here, take my fucking euro!"

He is also the resident white boy DJ- spinning records at whatever bars, clubs and pubs will put up with his progressive beats.

Also the Fuller Brush Man is nothing if not a hopeless romantic - which is celebrated with his beautiful ebony bride - who is the belle of any ball she attends.

Perhaps most of all, The Fuller Brush Man is the romantic ideal of the working man, comming to France, building a life for himself and creating great art and memories that will endure for generations.

Raise a glass of Pastis to the Fuller Brush Man!