We haven't done "overheard cell conversations" in here for a long time, have we? Well, this morning's was a classic.
Gentleman sitting behind me, having a long catch-up with an old friend. The conversation touches on such benign topics as how he lost thirty pounds just by walking everywhere, his application for SSDI and why his psychiatrist thinks he'll never successfully return to his previous line of work, and how his 83 year old mother recently stopped driving solely because she couldn't afford the car repair and how she's now going stir-crazy because she hates hanging out with the other old people. Then this:
"I've got really severe GERD--acid reflux. It's so bad they prescribe me pain medication for it. I don't take it though. It's money in my pocket. That's half my month's rent right there. We've got this nice apartment in a really good neighborhood..."
Okay. Is there any possible other way to interpret that besides "I sell my painkillers for a tidy profit"?
I remain completely amused at how readily the riders of the prison bus admit to their felonies in public.
xoxo
1 comment:
Ah, Maslow--shelter/safety needs trumping mere actualization / respite from chronic pain...
I think it's the prison bus equivalent of "I got these shoes on sale". When you can't afford to be shopping at the mall, bragging to your friends on the bus about your sweet pain medication deal is the next best thing.
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