I was at Wendy's tonight, enjoying my spicy chicken fillet with woefully undercooked fries and a coke when a homeless man wandered in. He was wearing a dark grey trench coat, black pants, black boots, a black scarf and a once orange hoodie that had faded to a dull pink and that was covered with patches of black dirt. He himself was coated in a thick layer of pure black grime.
"Canna havea cuppa water?" he said, and the cashier gave him one. Homeless man wanders over to the napkin stand, grabs a fistful of napkins and plops himself down at the table right behind me. I, luckily, was facing away from him, but the smell coming from him started to activate my asthma-that lovely heady bouquet of dirt, pee, and sweat. I finished my dinner, threw my trash away and turned around to look at him.
He had a small pile of napkins beside him that were once yellow but were now a dark gray. He was busy dipping a napkin into the cup of water and washing off the grime. He was taking off his scarf to wash his neck when I left.
Um...the bathroom's not too far off, why sit near me to wash?
"Canna havea cuppa water?" he said, and the cashier gave him one. Homeless man wanders over to the napkin stand, grabs a fistful of napkins and plops himself down at the table right behind me. I, luckily, was facing away from him, but the smell coming from him started to activate my asthma-that lovely heady bouquet of dirt, pee, and sweat. I finished my dinner, threw my trash away and turned around to look at him.
He had a small pile of napkins beside him that were once yellow but were now a dark gray. He was busy dipping a napkin into the cup of water and washing off the grime. He was taking off his scarf to wash his neck when I left.
Um...the bathroom's not too far off, why sit near me to wash?


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