Once upon a time I moved to Long Beach where I took a job for a small engineering firm. I started at the bottom making $8.00 an hour. I kept my head down and did my job. After a short while I was adopted by the Taurus family of misfits, a family of degenerates if I would say so, so I fit right in. These guys had put in some time, ranging from 15 to 30 plus years. Every day after work we would go down to a local sandwich shop which sold 40 oz. MGD and shoot the shit about the job and how much it sucked that particular day. We called it the 4:30 meeting. That is where I met Chino. Chino was in his mid-40s, Native American and gay. He literally grew up with the company. As a child he played in the work yard which he would later spend his life working in. So I'm sitting at the 4:30 meeting for my first time sipping my 40 trying to look like I fit in. Chino walks in with his cross slung bag that he carried everywhere like a Sheriff carries his six shooter. He gets his 40 and takes HIS seat. He doesn't say much initially and I don't pay him much mind. About 30 minutes goes by and someone mentions his name in regards to whatever work we had done that day. Chino looks up from his phone at this poor ill-advised individual and immediately goes to work. For a solid half hour Chino clowns this fool into oblivion as we all laugh hysterically. By looking at Chino you would never suspect that he was gay, that is until he got on a roll and the flamboyance came out, but it was more his delivery and attitude than it was flamboyance. He put us in stitches constantly. You really had to watch yourself at the meeting because one wrong move you're getting shit on by Chino to everyone's entertainment.
Chino was mad generous too. At the 4:30 meeting there were what we called big ones and little one's; a big one being a 40 oz and a little one being a 24 oz. So after we finished our big one we would get a little one to follow. There were countless times that Chino would finish his big one and then stand up and say, "Who's ready for a little one"? If you raised your hand, he would go inside and come out with a beer for you, including myself even on my first time at the meeting. He might clown on you to the point you want to crawl into the sewer but it was all in good fun. If you were the one to feel his wrath you just impatiently waited for the next day where he laid into someone else and you could be a part of the laughter as opposed to the source of it. Around 6pm we would get kicked out of the sandwich shop and make our way down to the local watering hole called Fabulous West, which we referred to as the Wild Wild West. Chino loved Jager. If you were family you were sure to get a shot of Jager and share a pitcher with Mr. Chino. He was that kind of guy. If you hit a rough spot Chino's door was always open for you to crash for as long as you needed.
Chino passed away this morning. I'm sad. Over the 3 years I worked there I got to know Chino well, from me attending a Pow Wow with him and then me forcing him to sing Jason Mraz karaoke in front of a packed bar to watching super bowls at his apartment. Chino was a force who demanded recognition and he got it in the way we all want to be recognized. He made you forget about a shitty day at work. You got to the point where you looked forward to the 4:30 meeting just to hear Chino go off on somebody. He did have his demons as we all do; I only wish I could have been there to help fend them off. Chino, you will be missed dearly and I'll see you at the 4:30 meeting in the sky. Piece Brother
Peices and Creases
TBN
