The Juice Guy

This summer, both of my sons work at an upscale local deli. The older
is the manager and the younger is working there between college
semesters. At the dinner table they often talk about this odd character
who is constantly trying to convince my son to stock his international
boxed juice. The routine basically goes like this. Older son will be
back in the deli, busy whipping up a massive container of artichoke
dip, when he feels something tickle the back of his neck. He whirls
around and there is this quirky mumbling juice salesman, who, for
some unknown reason, likes to sneak in and stand as close as
possible to him, his beard actually touching the back of his neck!
This peculiar juice guy thinks my son is eventually going to give in
and stock his strange juice, if he becomes his friend. Now, I have
never seen this unusual man, but they say that he is short and has
a ten inch red beard, growing straight out from his face. When he
talks, he tilts his head back and actually peers up at you through
his dense red beard. In my mind, I have conjured a "Billy Gibbons"
kind of guy, with a backpack full of curious looking juice boxes with
flavors like beet-rye and some kind of unknown berry nectar.
Interestingly enough, this summer at The Manor, the term
"The Juice Guy" has amusingly taken on a similar connotation to
"The Cable Guy". If he shows up here this week, looking for my
son, he'll need no introduction. I'll know exactly who he is and I'll
tell him to leave a juice sample in the old ivy covered mailbox at
the front door!