Once I was coming home to San Antonio from South Padre, where my mom always loaded me up with food.
There was a guy on the freeway exit ramp with a “will work for food” sign.
I gave him a chicken. A home-smoked whole chicken.
For some reason I had to go around the block again and he had stashed it under a bush and was back in position.
It didn’t seem odd then, but now the fact that I gave him a chicken makes me giggle.
I wonder what the people in the car behind me thought?
