· your fears of being shot are almost calmed by the comforting smells of Ben Gay and Old Spice.
· you’ve got to help the poor old guy across the street with his bag of money afterwards, and — pressure! — do it all before the dye pack explodes.
· if you don’t respond to his demands at once, he begins to think you’re a foreigner or a deaf person, so he just re-states his demands louder.
· you can feel the deep, steely criminality of the old codger even through his Cocoons and the Wal-Mart “prescription” glasses under them.
· your heart is broken by the fact that he’s going to spend this money in just two ways: On slots in Atlantic City and on his grandkids, $10 and one holiday at a time.

This entry was posted on Monday, June 8th, 2009 at 1:16 pm.