“It’s not that I don’t want to help them out, especially some of them,” you say, “I get to know them. When you’ve worked here as long as I have, you pay attention to the regulars.”
I sweep my eyes once more. I don’t know why you talk in generalities. We both know him. I reach into my pocket.
“You are not doing that,” You say. You’ve caught me once feeding an expiring meter. I’d just arrived to the neighborhood and you excused me with a stern warning: “Your job is sacred, so is mine.”
“Why not? Random act of kindness,” I say, “Maybe he’s lost track of time for a good reason.”
1 minute 15 seconds.