Stumbling Drug Dealer

This morning, waiting at the bus stop, a strange person wandered over to be. He looked like he’d been in a fight. His nose was recently broken, judging by the fresh blood, and is words were slightly slurred. The first thing he asked me was if I wanted to buy some weed or cocaine. For the next 15 minutes he talked about how he was like Martin Luther King, his son (who was going to be the next big rapper) and other stream of consciousness stuff. He said I would be a good bodyguard because I was so big.

I said, maybe, ten words. While he was talking to me, because I really didn’t want him near me, I kept imagining I was Rorschach in Watchmen. That’s why I didn’t say much, nothing more that nodding a couple times and saying hum.

When he brought out his phone to play some of the music from his rapper son, which to me the beats on the music were derivative of Sir Mix A Lot’s Posse on Broadway, I got a bit miffed because here was this beat up, drug dealer with a new phone and was streaming music from Spotify. I wondered how a street hustler, as he described himself a number of times, had a smartphone and a wireless plan. The phone was loaded with a lot of apps.

I’ve seen a lot of homeless people with smartphones over the years. The phones I use to see where cheap, flip phones. While I found it strange that a homeless person would have a phone, seeing them with outdated tech made some sense in my head. Now, a lot of the phones I’ve seen with homeless people seem really good and they have plans. How in the world can a homeless person have internet service?

Maybe the person I saw this morning wasn’t as homeless as I imagined. Maybe, as a dope slinger, he has an apartment and a good source of income and I caught him out and about after a string of bad luck. The thing is, I really didn’t want to deal with him, not that early in the morning. I wasn’t in the mood to hear about his son, or how he was like MLK or any of his nonsense. I wanted to be left alone and where was this guy spinning tales and invading my space.

After fifteen minutes he left and stumbled to the parking lot of a convenience store. He talked to someone in a vehicle, definitely having a better conversation than he had with me.

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