I Just Can't Shake Her Filthy Feet.

A few days ago, I stopped at the gas station on the way home from work. As I parked my car, I saw a young blonde woman hopping through the muddy alley beside the station with a twenty in her hands. She was in a hurry to get into the gas station, and was wearing no shoes, only socks. The tops were white, the bottoms black. I assumed she needed cigarettes or crack. Once inside, she went right to the candy display and picked up a pack of Bubble Tape. She paid and ran back out into the night. I can't get this out of my mind.