My morning started off in at O’Reillys. Whilst loading whatever I bought, a man pulls up to me in a spanking new Elantra GT. He asks me how I’m doing and whatever. He’s sweating. He’s stammering. His eyes are glazed over. I get a sob story about how his wife, and or daughter, are at a Hospital conveniently located about 50 miles north of our location and asks me for gas money. But he offered to totally pay me back sometime.
Buddy, the key is to pull up to vehicles that cost MORE than $1,000, and not me and my pickup. You’ve got to make it partially believable. I said no, but I wanted to say more things, like get help, or fuck off, or let me see your gas gague, etc.