Friday, April 1

[Tension at the Tigermarket]
I got panhandled tonight at a gas station on Union. Granted, I should have known not to stop there at 11:30 at night, but my gas light was on and the only other gas station on my way home is even more in the ghetto. Excuses, excuses.

Anyway, I had the pleasure of meeting one of Memphis's crazy stuttering bums. So I'm paying at the pump (no cash in sight) and this dude comes walking up to me, all like, "Scu-me ma'am, ma'am, ma'am, ma'am, ma'am, ma'am." I ignore him until he's up in my face staring at me with those crazy bum eyes, and I finally give in and say, "Yeah, hi, what's up?" as I fiddle with the keypad. He is mere inches away from my face and he starts making hand-to-mouth motions and stammering, "Needhel, needhel, helme, helme, helme, helme." And I have no idea what's going on, naturally. So I'm like, "Uhhh..." and he reaches to take the pump out of my hand, at which point I push his arm back out of my personal space and away from the pump. "No thanks, I got it covered," I tell him. And he's still stammering something about needing help, and as raw as my heart is, I'm beginning to get weirded out and realize that this dude could stick me with a shiv and no one at that station would care and that people would inevitably say it was my fault for being there at night and engaging a crazy person. So, interrupting his compelling speech, I forcefully say, "I'm sorry, but I don't have any cash," and he instantly stops speaking, stares at me, and slinks away. So I think maybe he was putting on the magnificent stuttering act to gain my obviously liberal sympathy (I was wearing slacks, for god's sake!). I coldly denied it, though I did feel like an asshole when I drove off.

+++
Another random death. Mitch Hedberg was found dead this morning at age 37.

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