lyingstones

'ding' goes the doorbell.
i get up to answer it, and there's a fucking crackhead on the porch.
he mumbles "hey, is that car for sale?", pointing at my saturn.
"um, noooo..."
"oh," pointing then to my roommates car, "well, what about that one then?"
"no."
"ohh, well, um, okay, sorry to botheryou mmfrrferbbbllle....." as he wanders off out into the street.

i don't live in a neighborhood frequented by cracked out immigrants. where the hell did he come from?