I stopped by a little liquor store in my town today. Not my neighborhood but it was convenient. All right turns, across the street!

I go inside, there's a guy who looks messed up. Maybe wasted. Missing teeth, eyes not straight, loud but I can't understand him.

I ask him about the "Help Wanted" sign on the door.

Dude: "What do you want to know?"

Me: "What does it pay?"

"I don't know. Everybody's different. You gotta talk to the manager."

I pause. "Yes, everyone IS different." I wandered to the beer cooler, made a selection of cheap, clear lager, and took it to the counter.

"You got a number for the manager?"

"Come back when he's here."

Pause.

"Never mind. I don't want to work at a place where they talk to people like that."

"Well fuck you. You can go fuck yourself."

"Well you can go fuck yourself."

Long pause.

"You still want the beer?"

"YEAH, I still want the beer…"

Pause.

"No. Get the fuck out of here."

"What?" I stopped in the doorway.

"Man, I'd like to take you outside and..." as he turns red and clenches his fists, quivers with anger...

Code Red now, senses heightened. Hyper-focus, then tunnel-vision. Could get physical.

"Why would you want to do that?" I felt threatened, but not quite afraid.

On my way out the door, I yelled back "Get broader shoulders!"

I called his boss the next day. Not to get him in trouble (no, Karen), but to encourage the manager to help the guy. He had an episode. The manager said, "I think his mother just died or something."

I told him no problem, everyone has a bad day. That's what I was thinking as I'd driven away. That and methamphetamine damage. What it is.

This was a pass/fail test. They're all around us, if we can see them.