Hey, remember that frazzled old fellow you saw in the hardware store checkout line last week?
The one whose face was grey with week-old stubble, wild of hair and eye, obviously unwashed and dazed from lack of sleep, looking old beyond his years. Clad in sugar-caked work pants and mackinaw, wearing his cleanest dirty shirt over a T-shirt that can’t remember what it was like to be white, he has the look of a man trying to remember what day it is.
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