Reader to Reader
As I left the copy shop near North and Damen, I spotted a panhandler standing a few doors away. She's a familiar face and never fails to inquire if I have any spare change. But I felt I had donated enough that day, so I was prepared to say no.
When I began to draw closer, she stepped out of the doorway and started to speak. I was ready with my answer. "Your zipper's down," she said with a smile. I pulled up my fly and continued to walk down Milwaukee Avenue.