I had to go into Portsmouth to get a key cut at Budget Marine (‘budget’ is an oxymoron). Of course, in spite of a large rack of blanks, they didn’t have one. When I left the store a man in diving gear, i.e., snorkel, harpoon, stopped me and showed me a small common terra cotta flower pot and asked me to buy it. Pleadingly, he said, “This is all I could find today. Give me a couple of dollars for it, my lady.” I have finally learned to say no to these myriad offers. He continued saying he was hungry. I walked on with him shouting angry insults at my back.