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so, i was on my way home tonight. walking through my alley around 10:45 PM. this well kept white 1980s caddy was rolling up slowly behind me. gave it a glance or two, but didn't think much of it. it stopped while i kept my stride.

"sir."

walk walk walk

"sir."

walk walk walk

"sir?"

i turn around and a late fifty's gentleman exits the vehicle, graying hair situated in a rumpled polo and khaki shorts.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to bother you. I was just on Milwaukee and picked up a hooker. She stole my wallet. I live on the 110th st. in Oak Lawn and I'm almost out of gas. Can you at all spare cash for two gallons of gas? I just need to get back home."

Do I help him out, or do I let him stew?

"I'm really sorry. I don't have any cash on me. Sorry."

With a shrug of the shoulders, i turn around and continue to my apartment. he rumpled his bed, now he has to lie in it. wouldn't you want to be on the other end of that collect call?

moral of the story: if you are going crusing for hookers, buy the gas first.