true customer tales: the dispossessed

A posse of urban camper sorts are circulating around the block today. During a brief pause to survey the sale cart, this scintillating scrap of anecdote wafted in the door:

So, I tried to SHIT on the windsheild?  The cop car windshield?  So it would cover the CAMERA, you know...you know about the cameras? So I climbed up there...

Alas, this heatwarming tale was interrupted by the mongrel hound at his feet, which sprang after a starveling kitten in the arms his companion, a girl with the spray of greasy dreadlocks fanning out from under a filthy faux coonskin cap.

The intent of his corporal assault on the vehicle of The Man must, it seems, remain shrouded in mystery, obscured by a more primal conflict.

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