This morning while I was standing on the sidewalk, a Ford pickup truck pulled up. A man with a foam front baseball cap, wild mop of hair, and long straggly beard leaned toward the open window between us.
"I'm lost," the man said. "Can you point me in the direction of a bar?"
I made a quick stereotypical assessment that the gay bar 100 feet from where I was standing probably wasn't what he was looking for and replied, "Do you know how to get to High Street?"
"High Street...that sounds like my kind of street..."
"Yeah," I said. "Take a right on Spring, go a few blocks and take another right on High. There's lots of bars."
"D'ya wanna go?" He asks.