THE BAGGY PANTS MAN
'I can't lift this for nothing and ain't trying no more.'
He's like that : cinder block for a dumb-ass brain and
he got wall-eyes too, like a fish. I can't hardly look at his
shape, let alone his face. He just sits there, and each day
makes up a new story : please help, give money, wounded,
homeless vet, lost my house, lost my pet, need help, got
nothing, spare a dollar please. Good days are when he sits
there and holds a Bible for hours; another good day is when
he brings along a dog to sit with him, poor thing. Hype.
Hyperventilating bullshit ragamuffin crap. I want to
give his head a slap; see if any nickels, dimes or
quarters maybe come out. 'Know wad ahm sain'?
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