I grew up in a small, conservative Texas town where homelessness wasn't really an issue. It wasn't until I moved to Austin for college that I became more familiar and comfortable around homeless people, my first couple times down the drag were an eye opening experience to say the least. That being said, here is a recap of what I can remember about my night with the coolest hobo ever.

My friend and I had lucked into some tickets for the Spurs game so we drove to San Antonio to go watch the game. With us being college students and therefore semi-alcoholics my friend brought a bottle of rum for us to drink before the game. We got to San Antonio early and decided to get a bite to eat and some cokes to mix drinks with before the game. We noticed a jack-in-the-box thats within walking distance to the stadium and figured it was our best bet for some cheap fast food. We parked and started walking towards the door. When my friend and I were about ten feet away from the entrance I noticed a black blur speeding towards us on an old mountain bike. The mountain biker expertly came to a skid stop, almost obliterating my friend and I. Off steps one of the coolest men I've ever had the privilege of meeting, my new idol. He's about five feet tall, 120 pounds soaking wet, wearing a XXL camo jacket and shorts, has no teeth whatsoever, and to borrow from from the roast of Flavor Flav, he looks like a skeleton wrapped in electrical tape. We figure his age to be anywhere between 25 and 50. Since I didn't get his name and his striking resemblance to the clock-adorned rapper I will refer to him as Flavor Flav from here on out.

After nearly taking us out Flavor Flav yelled something at my friend and me. I'm not sure if it was the lack of teeth or if he was speaking a different language altogether, but we could not understand a single fucking word he said. We shrugged off his unintelligible insult and went inside and placed our order. Flavor Flav came in behind us (thats what she said), strolls effortlessly past us and the other customers up to the counter and like some sort of invisible, drink-stealing, super hero he snatched an empty drink cup and proceeded to fill up. This was about when my buddy and me deduced that Flavor Flav's balls must be steel and the size of grapefruits. After this daring caper he walked out and we thought we had seen the last of him. We ate our food, filled up our cups and headed towards the car mix our drinks before we walked to the game.

With both my friend and I being under 21 we surveyed the area before breaking out the bottle, seeing no one we decided it was safe to drink, needless to say as soon as the bottle was out in the open I look up and staring intently back at me and flashing me a huge toothless grin was our boy, Flavor Flav. Where did he come from? To this day I have no idea, my only thought is that some sort of alcoholic mutation in his body gives him the ability to sense the presence of booze within a certain radius. I tried to play it cool and pretend like I was on my phone but Flav is not easily tricked and came right up to my windshield and gave it a good knock. This was one of the toughest decisions I've ever had to make; do I speed off into the darkness and forget about Flav or do I roll down the window and see what this alcoholicÂȘuggernautšas to say.

I gave in to my curiosity and rolled down the window, Flav mumbled something but due to the language barrier between us we had to revert to primitive gestures and grunts. We finally figured out that what he wanted was some of our alcohol. We figured it would be pretty funny and possibly a good story to tell later on so we agreed, little did we know Flavor Flav would become one of the most influential people in our lives. He handed us the cup he had so stealthily stolen from jack-in-the-box earlier, it was a 32 ounce cup and completely empty. We started pouring the rum waiting for him to tell us when to stop but he just kept motioning for us to keep going and going and going. We completely filled up his 32 ounce cup with 80 proof, cheap and shitty rum. Without so much as a word of thanks Flav greedily grabs his cup back from us and goes bottoms up, in less than a minute he finished every. last. drop. He flashed his toothless grin one more time and took off like a bat out of hell down the street on his mountain bike.

My friend and I looked at each other in shock, were we just in the presence of an alcoholic angel? He had just drank enough alcohol to put an elephant on its ass and was seemingly unaffected. We thought that was the last we had seen of Flav but we were sorely mistaken.

On the long walk to the arena we saw the flashing blue and red lights of a cop car about 400 yards from the parking lot and since it was somewhat between us and our destination we decide to walk by and investigate. Sure enough as we got closer we saw the telltale XXL camo jacket and mountain bike. Our new friend is in trouble! The cop has a flashlight in Flav's face and we could tell that he wasn't having none of that. The cop was having just as much trouble as we had communicating, but what he doesn't know is that Flav is blackout drunk off our cheap rum. We kept our distance, but continued to monitor the situation.

After about five more minutes of interrogation Flavor Flav apparently got fed up, shoved the officer and takes off down the middle of the road on his bike. The cop got in his car and begins the chase. It was one of the funniest scenes I've ever had the pleasure of watching unfold; tiny Flav on his mountain bike, drunk as a skunk, furiously pumping his short legs, leading San Antonio's finest on a low speed chase through busy downtown. As we watched them slowly drive into the distance, I couldn't but feel like a proud father knowing that I played part in this, however minor it might have been.

I'm fervently TiVo-ing all of the reality tv cop shows that I can think of, hoping to someday find out the result of Flav's low-speed chase through San Antonio. Part of me wants to believe that he made it to Mexico and is sitting on a beach somewhere sipping Margarita's; although the more realistic side of me believes he's sitting in a hospital somewhere sipping water due to his probable liver failure. Thank you Flavor Flav for allowing me to drink as much as want with a clear conscience, knowing that try as I might I could never live up to your impressive precedence of alcoholism.