Donors From the Plasma Bank
When I was in my twenties Iused to work at a downtown plasma bank. The donors were usually poor men, sometimes homeless and sometimes living in the old low rent flophouses. When they weren't selling blood they would work at day labor. You generally didn't see much panhandling back then. Usually they wore the same clothes and they washed them rather infrequently. No one would have ever accused them of being dandies. Most of them were fond the cheap old MD 20/20, or as they called it, Mad Dog 20 20. I think we paid them $10 for the plasma and gave them a ticket for a meal at a nearby barbeque restaurant that stated they couldn't buy beer...only food. They came by to donate pretty regularly and after a while, I was on a first name basis with all of them.
I only saw them at work ........except when I would have a date with a girl who I wanted to impress. Then I never failed, no matter what part of town I was in, in meeting at least one. I remember I was always asked "Where do you know HIM from?" and before I could fully explain, the next question was usually "You WORK with him?". When I am defensive, I usually get tongue tied and make things worse. One time the date was off to a bad start already and then we ran into the donor (as always). She asked me who he was and I decided not to bother and just told her he was my Dad.