El Vendedor De Flores

On the corner of my street there is the constant presence of the flower man. One of the most interesting characters I have encountered in my travels, el vendedor de flores, brightens up my day every time I turn the corner to head towards my apartment. Standing at about 5 foot 2, this 70-year-old man has as more energy then most kids I go to school with. He is always bouncing around the streets offering deals on Jasmines, parading roses in the faces of beautiful portena women, or simply cracking jokes at the other random people who come upon his territory.

This man simply owns the corner of Vicente Lopez y Pueyrredon. He has a little shack that he says has been there for over 15 years. A couple of days ago I finally decided that my place needed a little vegetation so I decided to check out his wears. Now at first he did his usually song and dance routine displaying different types of roses and his seemingly favorite flower-daises. He rubs his ever-present five o clock shadow and takes long intense inhalations of the flowers, proving their perfumed worth. In jumbled Spanish I tell him I’m looking for something a little more special, a type of flower that he doesn’t offer to any regular person meandering by his stand during the day. All of sudden he does a hop, skip and a twirl, dashes a smile with a hint of realization and procures the most random looking cactus I’ve ever witnessed in my life.

Its almost as if he saw through to the center of my jumbled thoughts; immediately I knew this cactus was for me. In truth, I probably didn’t need any plant in my apartment but constantly seeing him on the corner slowly drove me to support his operation. The guy is an ancient, mythical flower sales man, but the strangest aspect about him is that his legs are two different sizes. Instead of letting this disability negatively affect his existence, a special show was built for him that stand almost a foot taller than his other show. Now I thought snapping a photo of the mega show would be rude, so I’m currently plotting to take a photo under the veil of secrecy. Even with his handicap, you’ve never seen someone with a more enduring smile. They guy bombs and weaves between traffic, running up to car windows and persuading them with his old man charm. He may lead the life of a simple flower salesman, but he enjoys every moment of his time on this earth, at least from what I’ve seen. Unfortunately not many other people in Buenos Aires share his enthusiasm for life, but maybe if they bought more of his flowers, a little bit of his positive energy could rub off on them. (Picture and Name of Flower Man soon to come).