John Laraquette - Poem by Bill Simmons
This is the story of a few years ago
When I lived in Tucson town
About this one man I just happened to meet
When this stranger, he came around
This story is true, it is every word
As I write it down this way
And as I do stand I share it with you
Of the events that happened those days
I worked fast food, this is what I did
As so happens, I was a manager too
Then one day this stranger walks in
All dressed in business his suit
I recognized but could place him not
I thought maybe a corporate man
Or maybe he be a secret shopper
I myself would wait on the man
I greeted him, said, 'How do you do'
He smiled and showed me a grin
Each time he would come, I would wait on him
We would chat, we became as friend
Then one day, I had hired a new cook
He was short and rather quite round
It was he who was working with me
When my stranger friend again came around
I greeted my friend and was chatting with him
When I heard something crash from behind
I turned to see, it was my young cook
I thought he was losing his mind
He had dropped his tray and was dancing all around
With his hands high in the air
Excited he was, I said, 'What's the matter boy? '
He said, 'Can't you see, he is right there! '
I pardoned myself and left my friend at the counter
So that I may tend to the cook
He stuttered and stammered and kept shaking his finger
In the direction of where my friend stood
I asked my cook, 'What's wrong with you? '
But his words they wouldn't come out
Finally he managed to compose himself
And when he did, he shouted out
He said, 'It is Dan Fielding!
He plays in Night Court on TV! '
Then he says, 'It is John Laraquette
And it is he standing right in front of me! '
I turned and looked at the counter
At where my friend he stood and was
There he stood with the worlds biggest grin
And I too realized who he was
I walked back to the counter
I stuttered and stammered myself
I said, 'It is true, it really is you! '
I felt so dumb of myself
He laughed and said, 'Well, it's about time!
I knew you knew who I was
But the puzzled look upon your face each time
It was worth while my return, just because! '
I laughed with him and I shook his hand
A TV Star he was this man
He signed his autograph on one of my comment cards
It was a pleasure to know this man
I told John, 'Not one would ever believe
This story when I offered to tell'
He asked, 'What day I would work again'
Then he said, 'Oh yes they will! '
Well, John had his lunch and went on his way
I told my story and no one believed
Except for my cook, he was beside himself
For he too was there to see
A few days went by, I went on with life
I was working one night with full crew
Then a limo pulled into the lot that night
If I remember correctly, it was blue
It pulled up to the front
Around the building it circled about
And when we thought it was about stop
It circled again around
Finally it pulled right up and it stopped
As all the employees and patrons looked on
And then I could see just who it was
He had returned again, it was John
This time he came just as who he was
With two beautiful women adorned on each arm
He walked in the door and walked straight up to me
As all eyes they seen and looked on
The patrons and crew they could have caught flies
Their mouths had fell open wide
For the tale I told of this TV Star
There he was as big as life
He said, Hi Bill as he shook my hand
It would be the last time we would ever meet
He said, I wanted to stop by one last time
And let you know I was about to leave
He sat down and they had their meal
But this time it was on me
And when he left, he was gone
But all in my world, they did believe
Now this has been some years now past
He and I are both growing old
I see him now and then in the movies
But mostly the TV shows
To him I give this living epitaph
While we are both living so he can know
For once upon a time in his life
He indeed touched another's soul
I think about him now and then
Of this man who's hand I shook and met
Although there are many stars around
There is truly only one...
Comments about John Laraquette by Bill Simmons
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