Crack Purchase

First off, if you are reading my blog via Google Reader - that's awesome! but you are missing all the fun. Go to my page to participate in a real time poll; humor me, please...

I was having dinner with a couple friends, well only one was my personal friend, but I like to think I have more than one friend so let's just go with the whole "friends" idea. I mean it's novel enough just to be having dinner with someone other than my old man so let me have my pipe dream.

We were sitting in a booth next to an open window, adjacent to several tables where upon several groups were enjoying, I assume, as good a meal as my black and tan brownie. Stumbling his way down the block comes, none other than a drunk or high or both bumbling bum. He interrupted the first group of people he encountered:

"Uh, heeeeyyyyy man... yuuuh, can I snag a cig from youuuu?" he muttered.

The man reached across the table and produced a filthy black stick of tar. Here.

"Ooooh wow man. Heeere, leemmme give youuu a quarterr," he slurred accepting the offering.

The man said nothing, gestured nothing, but ignored the vagrant and attempted to continue his conversation.

"Okayyyy, whatevvver."

He paused. "Wannnt some craack?"

Seriously? Want some crack? Don't hold anything back hobo.

This is where it gets better. About an hour later we were venturing back to our car, and the rascal was holding post on the corner where my vehicle was parked: selling newspapers. Now, this is not uncommon in this fair city. Our city produces a local newspaper, sold for a $1, for the express purpose of giving the homeless a job. The hobo keeps $0.75 and the consumer gets to keep themselves abreast of the going ons in the homeless community. It's a win win.

Except this crack fiend wasn't selling the hobo news. He was selling the free local newspaper that he pulled out of the dispenser on the very corner he was stationed.