One day he was being filmed, which didn't surprise me at all, and as I walked by I looked directly into the camera and said "He is my favorite!" before pulling out whatever loose bills I had in my pocket.
"You hear that?!" the man behind the video camera exclaimed, taping the entire exchange. "She thinks so too!"
"I'm sure I'm not the only one!" I yelled over my shoulder as I walked away.
I saw him again last week, the infamous saxophone guy, after picking up Ziggy's medicine from a local pharmacy. I waited until he was finished playing to muster up the courage to ask him if he'd mind me taking his photograph. "You're my favorite!" I reminded him, dropping a few dollars into his tip bag, which had since been upgraded from the sparkly gold one (that lasted about five years more than I'd expect of any dingy gift bag). "I've always wanted to ask you if I could take your picture, but I was too nervous. I figured why not ask now!" He smiled graciously and said he wouldn't mind.
"Will you be here long?" I inquired further.
"About another hour or so," he replied - still smiling - and went back to playing.
Thrilled at the opportunity, I called the salon where I had just scheduled an eyebrow appointment, and told them I might be five minutes late. They informed me that if I was going to be more than five minutes late, I'd lose my appointment. Like I care, I thought. I'd take the portraits over eyebrow grooming any day.
I raced home, grabbed my camera, raced back toward the music, and began to snap away.
His smile got bigger and brighter than ever, and he replied, "Captain Kirk - the 'Sax Man'!"