Okay, eew right? But I guess he wasn't off the mark cuz if there's any place a dirt-caked, nicotine-breathed old man might pick up, it'd probably be at a bus stop. I made the mistake of sitting beside him on the bench.
He takes a big swig from his nondescript paper cup and through a lukewarm deluge of coffee breath, informs me that he is - an attorney.
Dude, at least OWN your lie, y'know? Try to make it at least half-believable. Because based on your B.O. and the fact that you are WAITING FOR THE BUS this is a pill I just can't swallow.
But of course this little gem makes me want to egg him on. Purely for blog fodder because I haven't been feeding you very well baby birds and I know it and this is me taking one for the team DAMMIT!
So - okay. Attorney. Then he points to his house. His yellow stained finger waves up at a shit apartment building that I KNOW is shit because my friend used to live in it and said "this place is such shit" ohhh, about 23 thousand times a day.
"See up there? That balcony? That's where I live."
Does the person in the apartment know you're living on their balcony? I mean, "You must have a nice view." Then I ask, "What kind of law do you practice"?
"Criminal." Stee-rike Two!
I'll tell you what's criminal. The way you tuck your jacket into your pants. WHO THE HELL TUCKS IN A COAT? There is no legal defense for that. None. Straight to jail do not pass go.
At this point I realize my bus is tragically late. Or, I've missed it. And he doesn't give 2 craps because he wasn't waiting for the bus anyway. He was waiting to lure a wide-eyed little doe into his web of saucy lies and substandard hygiene.
"So - do you have any secretarial skills? I need a new secretary."
If by secretarial skills you mean the ability to drop a 40 lb typewriter on someone's head like an anvil, then yes. Yes I do. "Uh, no."
"Do you have a phone number so I could call you to talk?"
Stee-rike Three! You're out!
"Nope! No phone!"
And with that, I wished him well, trashed any thought of public transit and hailed a cab. And even though the cab smelled like ass, it still smelled better than Stinky McReeks, Attorney at Law.