Chris works at the McDonald's on Los Gatos Boulevard, and sometimes he sneaks down the street to Carl's Jr. or Taco Bell. It's bad enough that he's wearing his work attire and that he knows his family doesn't want him eating too much fast food--but his is also a familiar face in the community. After all, he's the McDonald's greeter.

Chris has spent almost half his life known by names like "McDonald's Man," "McHost" and "Buddy." He celebrates his 20th anniversary as an employee at McDonald's on April 15, having touched many people in the community through the years.

"It's called McHost," Chris says, when asked what his position is at McDonald's. "McHost is the person that opens the doors and greets the people that come in and come out, and says, 'Come again soon.' "

While he's often overlooked by patrons, Chris is a hard worker when it comes to his job responsibilities of cleaning tables, windows and bathrooms, sweeping the floor and picking up after customers. He says it gives him a sense of focus and purpose.

As she ate lunch one afternoon, Connie Swanson recalled when Chris used to bring around packs of crayons and coloring books for her two children, Matt and Kate.

"They always remember me," Chris says.

That was when Matt was 2 and Kate was 7. They're now 22 and 27. Swanson can track her children's lives by how long people like Chris have been working in Los Gatos.

"He's just a really wonderful, welcoming face. He's the same as he was 20 years ago," Swanson says. "He's very friendly and outgoing."

Chris looks forward to taking the bus to and from work five days a week. McDonald's serves as a reliable, safe and secure environment where he feels comfortable, receives a paycheck and gets plenty of job satisfaction from seeing longtime customers. He works at McDonald's from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. on weekdays.

"I'm like the kids' idol," Chris says. "I love kids."

But there are even more reasons for this special man to be celebrating. Chris, who just turned 42 years old on March 18, proving to himself, his family and friends that he can beat the odds. Chris has surpassed the life expectancy of many who have Down syndrome, and he's doing it with a sense of humor, a positive attitude and plenty of regular exercise.

"It's hard to remember he is how he is because Chris is so mainstreamed," says Teresa Meisenbach, a Los Gatos firefighter who works at the University Avenue station.

Teresa, her husband, Bruce, and their two children, CJ, 11, and Miranda, 17, have "adopted" Chris as part of their family. He's really grown up with the Meisenbachs, since he's been living with them for about 21 years. Bruce was a teacher and basketball coach at Lynbrook High School when he first met Chris, a student at the school. They have always called each other "buddy."

"I used to be his team and equipment manager," Chris boasts.

During high school basketball games, Bruce says, Chris would cheer and scream on the sidelines to the point of total exhaustion. Chris was a student in a special education class where Bruce would occasionally substitute. He has fond memories of Chris trying to coax him into giving him the answers on tests or letting him slide by with a lower score on a paper.

"Come on, buddy, it's close enough," Chris would beg.

As Chris grew up, the two started hanging out socially, and gradually the evenings they'd spend together going to movies or parties would turn into overnights and weekends. After Chris's father died in 1986, Bruce offered to take care of Chris.

Chris's mother, Vivian Fleming, who lives on the eastern edge of Los Gatos, said it was a blessing for her.

"I'm in my 80s now," Vivian explains. "It gives Chris a male figure in his life. Bruce and Teresa have been magnificent in incorporating him into their family."

Vivian also has three older children, but Chris came along 10 years after them and was always the apple of the family's eye. While the Down syndrome features are obvious, Vivian says Chris isn't unattractive physically and is also extremely genuine and warm.

"That combination makes it easier for people to respond to him," Vivian says. "When we're shopping or anywhere around here, people always come up to him and say, 'Why aren't you at McDonald's today?' "

Chris was living with Bruce for about a year before Bruce met and married Teresa. While they were dating, Teresa says Chris was a huge advocate for Bruce.

"You have to go out with my buddy," Chris would say.

Going into the marriage, Teresa says she knew Chris was always "part of the package."

"I don't ever remember saying, 'Chris, come live with us,' " Teresa says. "It just happened."

Chris earns his keep in the Meisenbach household by sweeping, dusting, picking up after the dog and raking leaves around the house.

"He probably does his chores and most of CJ and Miranda's chores, too," Bruce says.

Bruce, a Redwood City firefighter, says Chris is also happy to help by cleaning the fire station, vacuuming carpets and counting and organizing the firefighting gear. Chris is accustomed to spending nights at the fire station and says his role there makes him feel valued.

"Chris will spend a shift with me, and I'll make him work out with me and do his station chores," Bruce says.

Capt. Mark Winters, with Santa Clara County Fire Department's University Avenue station, says Chris has taught him much about life and how to keep things in perspective. While many people tend to moan and complain about conditions in life, Chris usually responds with huge hugs.

"There's nothing fake about Chris Fleming," Winters says.

Over the years, Chris has evolved from Bruce's "buddy" to changing diapers and babysitting for CJ and Miranda. Today, he serves as more of a brother or uncle figure. Teresa and Bruce even named CJ (short for Christopher James) after Chris.

"It's never been different or abnormal," says Miranda, who attends Archbishop Mitty High School. "He's just part of my family. He never has a boring moment."

Chris loves telling "whoppers" or tall tales. And the Meisenbachs also have a new code where they bark "woof, woof" when Chris is "yapping" and needs to be quiet.

"I was born talking too much," Chris says.

The Meisenbachs have countless laughter-filled memories that involve Chris.

He once ratted Bruce out for speeding in front of a police officer, he accidentally pulled off a woman's bathing suit top at a water park and once his pants fell down while doing jumping jacks at karate practice--but he never stopped doing the jumping jacks.

"Chris is never, ever in a bad mood," Bruce says. "So one day I drove by the place where Chris takes the bus, and he's sitting at the bus stop. So I pulled over and he has white stuff everywhere."

Chris had been taught earlier that day how to make French fries and to push the timer after putting the basket in oil. But somehow, Chris accidentally pulled the fire alarm, and fire extinguishers dispersed a dry power throughout the entire kitchen area of McDonald's. The health department had to be called out and McDonald's was closed for the day. Chris was sent home looking like a snow bunny.

There are always the challenging times when Chris is left alone for a few minutes and gets into something he knows he's not allowed to be doing, Miranda says. One of the family's favorite stories is the time Bruce called in sick on his birthday to come home to find his wife decked out in lingerie, with champagne on ice and chocolate dipped strawberries.

"Surprise, I called in sick, too," Chris announced, popping out of a closet. Chris had overheard Teresa planning the intimate occasion over the phone and decided to join the party.

Chris is also known to start up jogging just as an attractive woman runs by him on the Los Gatos Creek Trail.

"I was born to become a ladies' man," says Chris, grinning.

While many people with Down syndrome have a natural instinct to take it easy, Teresa says Chris can be just the opposite. She and Bruce take Chris to the Los Gatos Swim and Racquet Club a couple times a week to swim laps, ride the bike or walk on the treadmill.

Brian Schweitzerhof, the club's fitness director, says it's great to see someone with Chris's condition using the club because so many people like him would normally fall into inactivity. Schweitzerhof said exercise helps to decrease Chris's risks of heart disease, diabetes, obesity and other related problems.

"Bruce and Teresa work out all the time. Bruce pumps some iron and Teresa does pump up weights but not too much," Chris says. "Because they do it, I want to do it, too."

Michelle Peterson, the club's group exercise director, says sometimes Chris is too busy to talk to her because he's so preoccupied with working out. Peterson, who is also a close family friend, says Chris loves unconditionally and knows how to brighten her day.

"Chris does better in an active environment," Teresa adds. "The more he's mainstreamed the better it is for him, and our family affords him that opportunity."

As Chris's 20th anniversary at McDonald's approaches, he's hoping to continue to serve as an asset to the community for years to come. Regular McDonald's customers, like Tony Bolan and Cheri Maxwell, say that with everything else that has changed in Los Gatos over the years, it's refreshing to see that Chris' smiling face is a constant when they visit his workplace. They find him congenial and a stickler for keeping his turf spotless.

Whenever Roberta Harless visits McDonald's on her lunch break from Good Samaritan Hospital, Chris greets her with his usual, jolly saying, "My lady of the year!" Chris has similar expressions for certain customers he sees routinely. McDonald's Assistant Manager Roger Amezquita says Chris gets a sugar cookie at the end of his shift for performing well on the job.

"He's a hard-working guy," Amezquita says. "I get compliments from customers all the time."

But customers probably won't be seeing Chris behind the cash register anytime soon. Once when Chris was being trained at the register, Bruce came in and placed an order. The total amount came to $4.53, so Bruce handed over $5. But Chris gave Bruce back a nickel and a dime. Bruce corrected him gently, saying that wasn't enough change.

Chris's response was, "Aww, buddy, it's close enough."