Julie and I are riding home last night on the train when a panhandler starts his speech about needing change or food or what have you. "I love this guy", I say to Julie. "Me too." she says, "He has the greatest voice." Then she leans over to me and whispers, "This is the guy that smells like crack." Now, this isn't a condemnation in any way of the man, or a concern that the dollar I was about to give him would be used for drug purchases. It was basically a statement of interest regarding a person smelling like crack. The she says, "He doesn't smell like crack today." It occurs to me, "How the hell do you know when a person smells like crack?"
    "Jim was hiding from drug dealers in my bathtub for two hours one time!"

Ahhh...