I was walking to Calhoun Square with Sandy on Sunday night for the open blues jam at Famous Dave's. On our way, we saw a bone-thin, scruffy, and almost toothless old man sitting at the bus stop, shaking his head back and forth. It seemed like he was humming. When we got close he looked up, and looked straight at me and said:
"Oh Lord, I know I is goin' to hell. Drank anything alcoholic by the age of twelve."
That was it. He went back to shaking his head back and forth, and we kept walking. I don't know if I should feel guilty or intrigued. I'm perched almost directly in the middle.