After a year or so of watching the old woman, I went a bit nuts. When it came down to purchasing tobacco, I lost it. I needed a smoke, I was desperate. In the midst of that breakdown, N called the cops on me. I grabbed my laptop (the county cops were fucking thugs and I hope they're dead) and my weed then walked out the door. Walked along ways in Phoenix heat, I had sixteen cents in my bank account.
N said she was worried about where I ended up. Heh. Her concerns matter more about how she appears, less about genuine empathy.
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