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July 10, 2004
I was looking to my left, waiting to make a left-hand turn, and saw him running down the sidewalk. Running, as in exercise, not as if from a crime scene. Running, and approaching.

I rolled down my window and called to him.

"Why run, when you can ride?" I said. "Do you want to get in?"

He did. So he did.

And I drove him home. Where I blew him, after coyly pretending that's not why I was there.

If only he didn't live in a trailer park, the story wouldn't be embarrassing at all! (I usually leave that out.)