About six months ago I was in the parking garage of Hollywood and Highland with stee as we passed a woman who appeared to be pleading to a couple who were listening with empathy. A few minutes later, that same woman approached us. She was cautious, hanging back for a second, like she wanted to know if we were normal.
“Excuse me,” she said, head shaking and hands trembling. She was in a brown business suit, brown hat, and carried a purse and a plastic bag that seemed to hold a bottle of water. “I’m a nice, old black lady. I’m not crazy. But do either of you have Triple A Plus?” Read more