#206 - Drug Dealer - NOT!

OK, this post is one where I have to make fun of myself...BUT, in my defense, when I was younger, I stayed with my paternal grandmother a lot who taught me to always be fearful of strangers.  My mom too for that matter.  I've always been friendly, but never really one to talk to strangers.   Strangers = child molesters 99% of the time, right Ma Ellen?   My friends who travel with me know that I do not like to "make new friends" in the elevator, or at the soccer field, and definitely not on the airplane (hmmm, wonder if I take after my mom or my dad????).  Anyway, I partially don't like to strike up conversations with strangers because I am very comfortable with quiet and secondly, I had a healthy fear of strangers drummed into me at a young age.  Anyway...the story goes...

I was twenty years old and living in Houston with Uncle Pete who my faithful followers will remember as
# 59 on my blog (click here for review).  Anyway, the apartment was by the Galleria off of Westheimer and the hospital I was affiliating at was in the medical center about 20-30 minutes away.  Let me stop and reminisce about working four ten hour days a week.  Monday - Thursday from 7-6 with an hour off for lunch.  Missed Houston traffic for the most part both ways ( :) dad), and every Friday off.  What a schedule...Anyway, I digress...  My work schedule meant that every morning I left the apartment about 6 am to allow for parking and the short bus ride to the complex and for me to get lost. (yes, every morning).  Anyway, I noticed from the very first day, that Houston in no way resembled my small home town.  I did not take the interstate because my dad told me there was too much traffic ( :) dad), so I drove down a street that had a million stop lights.  At every stop light, there was a small median in the middle of the six lanes of traffic, and on each median stood drug dealers.  I could not get over how many of them there were.  Out early every morning after a long night of selling drugs.  The police just allowed it also.  I remember one time, there was a police car right in front of me and he had to have seen the drug dealers...but did nothing.  It was at this point, that I was sorta thinking that maybe they were not drug dealers.  By the second week of my early morning commute, I was sure that they were homeless people...and that the reason that they were going up to each car as they waited for the light to change to green, was not to sell them drugs...but to beg for money.  As I mentioned before, with all the stranger-rules running through my head, I NEVER looked at these men directly.  I never wanted to be a witness to the money/drugs changing hands, and I did not want the homeless person to pull me out of my car when I rolled down my window to give them some change.  So I followed the rules of safety...  Doors locked.  Eyes straight ahead.  Make no motion to look towards them and never completely come to a stop if I was the only one at the light.

And so this went on for several weeks.  They approached the cars, I ignored them and made it safely to work each morning.  Whew!  Then, as I got more comfortable with the big city, I started to sneak sideways peeks at these gentlemen.  And guess what...  This is the part where I will comp to my small town stupidity because they were not selling drugs, and they were not even homeless.  Newspapers...  They were selling newspapers.  Every morning, a new addition.  Imagine that.  I think I'll just leave you with this.