...really?

the bastard's pockets were empty.

took the second avenue bus home.

while waiting a man who smelled of three day old liquor starts up with me.

"what?"

"you know how much that sammich cost?"

while looking over at the sign that clearly states, "five dollar foot long", the bastard looks at him square and declares, "I have no idea".

"well you see, ahm from crown heights"

(so what), "oh?"

"and they won't take mah public assistance here"

"that's messed up guy"

"so what ahm saying is, I'd like some help to buy a sammich"

(this entire dialog would be more plausible if you didn't REEK of alcohol) "sorry guy, I'm tapped"

"lies"

"really? my wallet is fucking empty guy. I had to nick a fiver from my ladyfriend to pay for dinner at the hospital"

and he rolls off to accost the lady in front of me and all the while, I'm thinking, "fuck you jerkpiece, I got nothing".

well that and how much I suspected that he wasn't buying a 5 dollar foot long.

addiction is a disappointing thing.

—the bastard