Another damn Christmas Eve in Key West, 1994

I got a black rose from a homeless guy on Christmas Eve. Totally flipped me out. He offered the rose for money, and when I declined, swiftly put it in my hand and let go, never breaking eye contact. "It’s yours. Merry Christmas." He said, his face expressionless. This homeless guy with a cold, blank stare, surrounded by a karmic dust cloud thicker than Pig Pen of the Peanuts comic strip, hands me a black fuckin’ rose on Christmas Eve, won’t take it back, and bids me a Merry Christmas in a tone used more for issuing warnings or omens than holiday cheer. So, consequently, I had a bad feeling about the rest of the night.