City Paper is not for tourists
We left Keith here. Sad place, right?
February 19 is not being kind to Keith.
“This is not my average day,” he tells me. “This is an unfortunate situation.”
Keith identifies existing, underground utility lines for a living. Too bad, he failed to see what was right in front of him: His gas gauge.
Right now, his car has no gas in it. He feels stupid. Sometimes, he leaves his truck running when he’s getting out for a relatively short period. He thought he was more vigilant.
As Carlos Iglesias and I leave our latest stop on Bladensburg Road in Northeast, Keith approaches us. He wants help. He’s crying out for it (from up the block and across the road).
“Can you drive me to the gas station?” he says. “And can you drive me back?”
He’s coming at us, neediness in his eyes. We offer to drive him to the station, but hell no, we’re not going to wait around for the guy!
“I’ve never had this situation,” he says, as he climbs into the back. He’s talkative. He chats about his circumstances until the end of the ride, a few blocks away. Then he gets out and we drive away—-‘cuz, you know, when you have gas in your car, you can do that.