So I woke up this morning and popped outside to smoke a cigarette. I was standing at the end of our driveway when a white, windowless conversion van rolled up.
I recognized the driver. He was the dude who had fixed our bathroom when the air conditioning was leaking a few weeks back but never bothered to paint the damn ceiling.
Dude: "You gonna be around this afternoon, like after 2?"
As I was thinking about my day's schedule, two things happened:
1) A woman in a nice sedan pulled up behind the van and couldn't pass on our skinny street, and...
2) The ole' dude riding shotgun asked me for a light.
Because I had just woken up my hair was everywhere, pretty much the equivalent of a strung-out smack addict.
So, I moved around to the shotgun side of the car. I reached into the van to give the guy a light. And then extracted my hand a few seconds later and put my lighter back in my pocket.
The van drove off a few seconds later.
I couldn't help but wonder if lady in the nice sedan thought I was the neighborhood crack dealer, because I could feel her eyeing me through her sunglasses as she drove past. Not only that, but the neighborhood in which we live once was pretty reputable for drug dealing. It's since been gentrified as hell and is very safe now.
But, hey, if you need some crack, I guess I'm your guy.
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