Junkie See. Junkie Do. Junkie get mowed down by Renee's car.

I try and help those needy. I've been needy. I've been helped. Therefore, I try and help the needy.

My Saintliness knows no bounds, I swear to you; I am a vision of kindness...and modesty.

...

Okay, so I'm far from perfect, but at the very least, I try and be a good Samaritan and set an example. Today was no exception.

As I was heading out of my driveway to run some errands, I noticed what looked like a student trying to hitch a ride. I've always been taught that as a single, white, and devastatingly attractive female, I should never give rides to hitch hikers, and today was no different then any other day, except this hitcher looked hurt.
I noticed before I pulled out that he had been chasing after cars desperately trying to secure a ride. As I started to drive by him, I noticed him hunched over almost panting. I thought he may have hurt himself, so I slowed down.
That was mistake number one.

The fellow noticed me and came towards my car. I rolled down my window and asked him if he was okay.
That was mistake number two.
He started rambling furiously on and on about needing a ride to Limoges (town next to mine). He said that he was freaking out and that he was having a nervous breakdown. He was sweaty. He had on a clean sweater but his face was scruffy and he had letters tattooed into his fingers. I'd recognize a junkie anywhere - I don't need to elaborate.
As he nattered on and on about needing to get to Limoges, I committed myself to not driving him anywhere, but tried to console him none the less. When I told him that there wasn't any possible way I could drive him, and started to drive off, the guy freaked on me and then Fucker threw some shit at my car.
I had half a mind to come to a screeching halt and mow the bastard down with my car.

Oh-ho the irony.

So, instead of retaliating, I immediately called my mother and told her to take an alternate route to pick up my son, and I headed for the police station. It was closed, but the emergency line was available.
So I called the United Counties and filed a complaint. There are too many kids, not to mention a bike bath, a school, AND a few day cares by my house, so I felt the need to report Hobo-Junkie-Jack, there.
As I was leaving the police station and getting into my car, an officer signaled to my from inside the building, and I met him at the front door. I explained to him what was going on, and he said that unfortunately he was the only one on staff at that present moment and therefore no one would go and investigate for a little while.
Well, a little while came and went. Mom actually called the Po-Po too. A cruiser did go by, but Creepy had already gotten picked up by a man with towing a Skidoo with his truck.

Only the French.

Haiku

By. R.C.M

Traveling junkie - seek

Dusty Delirium; attacking Suzuki

Ren will mow you down.