Tuesday, May 17, 2011
“Let's go! I want to show you those dead people.” The man talking to me is clearly stoned. He has to take a break between each sentence to gather his thoughts. He leans against the wall drunkenly for support.
“I work at the mortuary,” he assures me. “When the bodies come in, I get the coins” He looks at me, evaluating. “Pickpocket you.” He pauses. “Yes, and take your shoes.”
For the previous ten minutes, he has been asking me over and over for $0.25. But now he is settling in for the long haul. “You never know,” he beams optimistically. “You could die tomorrow. Only God knows that.”
He is wearing a blue hoodie. It is threadbare in places and layered over with grime. There is a plastic water bottle stuffed down one sleeve. Curious, I ask him whether his bottle has glue or embalming fluid. He covers his nose and mouth in his sleeve and huffs. It is embalming fluid.
Posted by Dan Carpenter at 9:04 AM