When I went to take the picture of the Halal cart, this drunk came up to me telling me that “this truck faggot didn’t deserve to get his picture taken.” I said something to the effect of “that’s kind of uncalled for isn’t it” He said he “didn’t mean it like that.”
I could smell the stale beer on his breath. His cloying hands kept reaching for me the way only a lonely drunk can. Clearly not reading any of the social cues. I got pretty nervous, I wasn’t really worried about my personal safety, but I had my camera attached to my tripod slung over my shoulder like a bayonet. I kept getting flashed of my glass shattering against the floor. I shook him off, and got my pictures.
