(no subject)
On Veteran's Day morning Khamis and I were walking from a coffee shop with horchata+espresso drinks to Phonecia to get some pita. As we walked along University, just past Zia records, a strange man approached us from across the street. He appeared Native American and very dirty. He had a dirty bandana across his forehead. He stopped in front of us and said, "Please, I just need a quarter!" Khamis said he hadn't any, and I looked away. From behind us he pleaded, "Please! I'm gonna die!" Normally, I don't give change when approached like that, but at that moment, I atually stopped and looked over my shoulder at the man, unsure what to do. Desperately, he cried, "Please! I'm gonna die if I don't get a beer! My blood will be on your hands!" I sighed and looked away. Figures.