you know, that's why they wouldn't stop talking.  No wonder it felt like an exercise trying to keep up.  I had said, "ignore his words but not him, or if it was the other way around, and sure enough you guys latched on to it and had him hot me with my own fart wisdom.  But I think i passed.  In all fairness, i didn't realize it till i got some sleep.  But basically it was how long i can keep ignoring his words without bailing.  I offered him some of my whiskey, i offered him a cigarette, i wasn't goomg to give him money—why doesn't he give me money.  I didn't think to offer him my peanuts.  But all in all, what else was i supposed to do?  The guy just wouldn't give me a breather—I've never heard such a frantic and subtle pitich.  Looking back, that's what have it away.  I had just ran away from a racoon, i had caffeine bad decision, my body started to itch, alcohol was doing nothin, I was worried if i talked to him id reduce him to one question, and that would reduce me to will on guerrilla style playtime—and it still just baffles!  Then the girl insulted my feet—Did you get the exclamation point?  Good.  She insults my feet—sorry I said your toes were disgusting, not because of that, but it was simply rude and immature, making public poems out of it. the bike with the wounded puppy friend following her on the bike.  She had stories for the cashier. She pulls up to the front of 7-11, insults me, fingers the cShier out and goes off about all the happenings with their inside circle.  This guy's still on for Sunday but not if Gilbert shows up with a Hummer from the lot he works at, cause he's going to embarass us at the valet then go park it you know—Guy had probablyy never met her before but she wagged his tail.  Or she's really sick, and that's a weekly encounter for him.  I dunno, i just need something to do while i roam