Hawaiian lei hawker says he once lived life of luxury

Joe Santos stood on his feet all week, selling burgers at McDonald's, yet on a sunny Saturday, he hawks Hawaiian leis he stitched together himself, perched on a square of sidewalk in front of The Mirage.

"Ladies, can I interest you in some leis?" he appeals to tourists. They smile by politely, without buying. "Gentlemen, you look like you could use a lei."

How did this grandfather of three -- a man who once counted the riches of a luxurious life -- find himself on a Vegas street corner, peddling hand-crafted strands of faux-pearls and silk flowers for $10 apiece?

Santos' story is one of many, among people hustling legal wares for cash on the sidewalks of Las Vegas Boulevard. But this is his story, as he tells it.

Santos, now in his 50s, was born the eldest of 13 brothers and sisters in a typically tight family in Guam. When he was 12, they moved to Lancaster, Calif., where he bailed hay for his father's alfalfa farming business.

He washed dishes for a naval shipyard. ("They had pots big enough I could climb in!") He worked as a janitor and as a bar boy, and sold vacuum cleaners door-to-door. ("That was tough.")

Then, he landed a lush job in import/export, flying to China, Thailand and elsewhere, buying little baskets and other goods by the thousands to ship back to the States.

He experienced true love, married his high school sweetheart, divorced his high school sweetheart. He accepts blame for being gone all the time.

Single and flush with money, he came to Vegas with quite a bit of his '70s hippie hair. In 1975, if he remembers the right year, he saw Elvis at Caesars Palace.

"I was out living like a fool. Partying. Everything," he says without elaboration, except to mysteriously say he created tax problems for himself, and he did a stretch of jail time at the end of the partying.

"I'm surprised I'm alive. I went nuts," Santos says. "Bad choices."

He succeeded on the other side, though, working for eight years for a California refinery that manufactured and marketed steel plates for oil and crude companies. He says he often met with buyers, keeping them happy by giving them tickets to basketball games.

But it's hard times. He got laid off. Six months ago, Santos, a father of one son, came to Vegas to live with his granddaughter and her mother, in Southern Highlands. He's got savings, but they won't hold out.

He applied for jobs at Wynn, Encore, Circus Circus, Mandalay Bay, Wal-Mart, and on and on. No luck. McDonald's came through with $7.50 an hour. At times, he sells burgers to a father who drives his child to the restaurant in a Lamborghini, and to women wearing rock-diamond rings.

"I've been there. I just couldn't keep it," Santos says of material good fortune.

To stitch his leis, he uses leftover material provided by his sister, who creates dance costumes for hula dancers.

Someone told him it was a pipe dream to sell leis. But he crafted leis in the school colors of USC and UCLA, went to the USC-UCLA football game and grossed $1,600 in four hours.

They're just not selling well on the Strip, no matter how hard he works it.

At 11 a.m. Saturday, he rode his bicycle to a bus stop, paid $5 for a roundtrip to the Strip, chained his bike at Circus Circus, hawked leis all the way down to MGM and back, while carrying a satchel holding water and hardboiled eggs, then he got on his bike, rode to the bus stop, and arrived home at 11 p.m. A 12-hour workday.

He sold three leis.

In the hours I follow him, he is ever cheerful.

"Maybe there's no market for leis. I gotta make a market for them. There are millions of visitors in Las Vegas. I figure if I can tap into just 1 percent of them? Damn!"

He's thinking he might be better off selling school-color leis at high school sports events. He's thinking of getting jobs in day labor to earn holiday money.

Meanwhile, he's never eaten in a fancy Strip restaurant. He hasn't seen any Cirque shows. He doesn't know anything about CityCenter.

More important, he says, he's enjoying being Poppy to his granddaughter Leialani, a "straight-A" middle-schooler.

Not long ago, Leialani, a happy reader, wanted to go to a school book fair. He made sure she could buy $50 worth of books and posters.

"I couldn't afford to spend that money," he says. "I was talking to her mom. She said, 'Poppy, she could go to a Goodwill and get these books for $4.' But I couldn't have her go to school and have all of her friends just stand there and not be able to participate in buying books or posters."

I ask him if he has wisdom to impart. He says it's important to stay true to yourself, and to be reliable.

"When you're younger, you're just out for yourself. Now I just have nothing else to rely on but myself, and I have to stay persistent."

On Sunday, Santos had planned to return to the Strip with his leis. But his granddaughter asked him to hang out with her. They went for a bike ride at the park.

Doug Elfman's column appears on Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays. Contact him at 383-0391 or e-mail him at delfman@reviewjournal.com. He also blogs at reviewjournal.com/elfman.