#38. TAMPON TALE
I sit quietly on a bench in Washington Square. A play usually begins.
Today’s drama:
Her to everyone:
“Wait, stop him! Call the cops! That guy in the black hoodie just stole my nine dollars!”
Her to me:
“Hey Mister can you give me some money? That’s all the money I had. And I need it to buy tampons. Please, any money? I’m leaking, really! I’m not a junkie or anything. But I need some tampons right away!”
And on and on and on. She ain’t leaving. So, I give her the change in my pocket.
What does she look like? Up to you.
You can’t make this stuff up. Or can you?
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