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.
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