I was walking near my apartment a couple days ago, and I saw this sketchy old guy in a jumpsuit, shuffling about at the corner. As I came closer, he asked if I had a moment. "This pasta salad was made this morning. Would you like to have it?" He pointed to a gallon-sized Ziploc bag full of pasta salad, sitting on the ground, propped up against a street sign.
I declined, despite the temptation.
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