#57, Shawn.

Shawn spelled his name the girls' way, which was awesome. He was my sister's friend, through Heather, really. Always wearing a black baseball cap, plaid flannel and light-colored jeans, although the band t-shirt underneath would change often enough; usually a metal theme. Always a pack of cigarettes (Camels?) and a Zippo in his pocket. Shawn smiled a lot, smoked a lot of pot, and had quite a drawl from an upbringing somewhere in the midwest. He worked at an aquarium in Albany (CA) for a long time, and had been married and had a kid a few years before we met him. His daughter's name was Stormy, which frankly is one of the most beautiful names i can think of. He had fake front teeth, from jumping off of a roof into a pool, and missing, when he was a teenager. Ouch. He had no sense of smell because of gas rushing up past a faulty gas cap (the tank was between his legs) when he was motor-biking somewhere once. It went straight into his nostrils, with force. He eventually moved to Montana after visiting there with my sister at some point. He had 2 kids with the younger sister of the girl he initially lived with for years. Drama, drama! Such a nice guy, though, Shawn. He did a lot for people. Can't think of a bad thing to say about him, really. Miss him a lot sometimes.