Here's Johnny!

Meet Johnny, or as beach goers call him, "man who sleeps on beach talking in his sleep." Typically you'll find him where the sand and water meet. Sun or rain, light or dark, he's relaxing and wondering from beach to beach living what he refers to as "the life." When I met him, he was face down on a red and yellow striped beach towel. His back was the color of the red stripes on his towel caused by an over exposed kiss from the sun. As I walked by him, he grunted, and muffled some words.
"Are you ok sir?" I ask hesitantly, I didn't want to wake a sleeping giant.
"Murahndamo," Johnny grunted, "Wha? Oh, um, hello Miss." Johnny stands up looking slightly embarrassed for his sleep talk...well sleep grunting.
His skin was a color of it's own, like it couldn't decide if it wanted to be tan or sun burnt. His sandy blond bangs brushed his aging face. You could see years of experience in his eyes. You could see that for every grey speck with in his ice blue iris' there was a story to tell. Johnny brushed off his chest of the sand he had been sleeping in. His hands were naked, no rings or watches. In fact other than his aging straw hat and a tearing pair of blue plaid shorts, Johnny's body was naked.
"May I help you miss?" Johnny interjects my study of his persona. I shrug and pretend like I don't know. Johnny smiles and bends over to pick up his towel. He began walking away as I stood there still curious to who this man was. What did he do? Where did he live? What was his story?
"Wait!" I yelled to him suddenly, I didn't know what came over me. I wanted to know his story. I wanted to meet Johnny, and hear those stories you could see in his eyes. I took of my sandals and began running up to him. I was going to spend the rest of my afternoon in the most relaxing place, learning about a man named Johnny. He lived every day like his last. Stress was a foreign word, the beach was his home, and most importantly, anyone and everyone was his friend.