Homeless Guys are Bad at Lying
A short narrative by S. W. Watson
AS OUR GANG of four young men ambled down Rural Avenue to our destination of Wendy's, we came upon a man in supposed distress.
"Hey guys, ah, my car's out of guh--blhalasblaheble--My car's out of gas."
----
K screw the story thing, I got bored after writing that part.
Anyway, some homeless guy comes up to us and asks for some gas money. He claimed his car with his 9-month-old kid and wife were "over there" and that he was out of gas. His plan would have worked except he smelled of booze and was standing in front of Jerry's 24-hour Liquor. So in any case, we did the right thing (except for Joe who donated 26 cents) by not letting him gas up and drive drunk everywhere in his Buick Toyota (inside joke).
This post is useless, so I give you pillowy mounds of mashed potatoes.
AS OUR GANG of four young men ambled down Rural Avenue to our destination of Wendy's, we came upon a man in supposed distress.
"Hey guys, ah, my car's out of guh--blhalasblaheble--My car's out of gas."
----
K screw the story thing, I got bored after writing that part.
Anyway, some homeless guy comes up to us and asks for some gas money. He claimed his car with his 9-month-old kid and wife were "over there" and that he was out of gas. His plan would have worked except he smelled of booze and was standing in front of Jerry's 24-hour Liquor. So in any case, we did the right thing (except for Joe who donated 26 cents) by not letting him gas up and drive drunk everywhere in his Buick Toyota (inside joke).
This post is useless, so I give you pillowy mounds of mashed potatoes.