Betcha can't hit me

After driving Steven to work and heaving heavy sighs at the traffic in front of me I was finally taking the exit to my source of income and saw something that made my anger at slow-Utah-drivers-in-the-rain melt away into a bubbly blob of sunshine and good will towards man.

"Bet you can't hit me with a quarter" Yeah. This homeless guy has got some spunk. He was a little younger, probably just a year or so older than me, and I gave him a friendly wave and a thumbs up on his ingenious twist on the usual, "vet, homeless, will work, God bless." He caught my enthusiasm and winked back at me. It was our secret. He done good.