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Saturday night in the East Village:
Panhandler: Do you have some food for me?
Me: No, I'm sorry, I don't have anything.
[two minutes pass, during which my dad, girlfriend, and I walk about thirty feet to the corner of Third Ave and St. Mark's Place and are trying to decide where to head next. Unbeknownst to us, the panhandler was shadowing us]
Panhandler: Hey! Mister White Person!
Me: No, I don't have anything, sorry.
Panhandler: No, I didn't want no food. I just wanted to poop on you!
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