Today on the light rail, a man offered me drugs for my coffee.
………………………Does anybody else see what’s wrong with this picture?!?!?!?
It’s a rainy morning in Houston today and I stepped on the light rail with every intention to sit down. Today, I was towards the middle of the train; you know the part that’s right by the accordion-looking-thing. I sat down next to a man and immediately looked for another place to sit because he smelt like oil, grease, smoke, and like he hadn’t showered for months. To my dismay, there were no open seats elsewhere and it would’ve been obvious if I just stood up 2 feet from the man.
So I stayed put.
StinkyCheeseMan: “What time is it? Is the cafeteria serving breakfast?”
Me: “uhh I dunno…it’s 8:45..”
The man starts laughing. It’s a weird giggle laugh….
We stop talking for a bit then he starts asking me about my coffee but I can’t understand him…
StinkyCheeseMan: “jskghkjhkjghkjrhtwy coffee?” More laughing
Me: “I’m sorry, what?”
StinkyCheeseMan: “ajkghjerhtjherjkthlqhldfjvndfjlblnrthgurtguieiu coffee?” Laughing again….
I sit silent for a bit as he continues to laugh….
Me: “I’m sorry but I just can’t understand what you’re saying..”
StinkyCheeseMan swallows before he talks this time, “I’ll give you some snow cake if I can have your coffee. You make it yourself? It smells good..”
I don’t know anything about drugs. I am completely naive in all areas of my life unfortunately, but I do know that if a homeless man offers me “snow cake”, he’s not talking about a cake in the shape of a snowman.
Me: “uhhhh yes I made it.”
StinkyCheeseMan starts giggling again. A lot.
I’m confused at this point…does he really want my coffee that bad? If it wasn’t in the only to-go cup I own, I would’ve given it to him…but I wouldn’t have taken his drugs. (or maybe I should’ve just so I could have a picture for the blog…but then I’d be like Khloe Kardashian in that episode where she found cocaine at her store…)
StinkyCheeseMan: “You eat breakfast at the hospital? I eat like 6 buffets and I pay a dollar and a quarter for it.”
Me: “No I eat at home.”
StinkyCheeseMan continues rambling on about food with his giggles here and there. What in the world kind of drug is this man on? He won’t stop laughing and I begin to wonder why I’m not understanding the joke.
Eventually he gets off the rail at the soup kitchen stop with a few more comments here and there asking me about food. I almost gave him my granola bar but I was so confused by this situation that I couldn’t figure out where the granola bar was in my purse.
Moral of the story: If you’re lookin for crack, bargain with coffee.
