djprolly

Today, a very inebriated bum asked me where I got my hair. Just to clarify things......I don't have a weave, I don't have those fake jamaican dreads you get at the mall. Just long hair. For a second I was almost as puzzled as he was. I didn't want to start a conversation that only one of us would understand so I paused for a second and told him..... "I got it at the salvation army". He believed me and asked me where I got my tattoos and shoes. I figured that I might as well be honest with him at this point since those were respectable questions. He asked for money and that was the end of things.

Sometimes people don't get my sarcasm, but almost everyone gets a joke. This guy didn't. I felt bad for him. He wanted someone to talk to even though he couldn't comprehend the simplist things. It's hard for me to comprehend how people can let themselves get that way. He couldn't possibly be having any fun. Ever. It kinda put me in check on how lucky I am to have bad luck. To have things go wrong. To be pissed off when something isn't working the way it's supposed to. I'm lucky to have those things, and extremely greatful for everything that is right.

Thanks for the reality check Mr. Crazy Face Bum Man......and I hope you didn't go to the Salvation Army searching for these luscious locks of hair

So I learned one very important thing:

You don't have to walk in someone elses shoes to have them ask you about where you got yours.