When the voice of a young woman beckons me. I turn to look. She is just a silhouette in the brightly illuminated parking lot.
Lady: Excuse me, I ran out of gas. Do you have a dollar?
As the words leave her mouth she comes into full view.
Me(internal monologue): HOLY SHIT! Meth much?
Me: No, I'm sorry.
I spent all my money on this delicious food, and don't have any left to buy you drugs.
Crackhead:(walking away in a huff) My car is broken. Thanks a lot.
Don't get pissy at me lady. Is your car broken or are you out of gas? You might want to get your cover story straight.
Always makes me sad meeting someone in this state. She probably wasn't over 35, but could have passed for 50.