More Tales of Sacramento at Night

If the weather is bad when I walk my dog Sparky late at night, I like to wear my dark blue trench coat. The trench coat makes me feel like a winged avenger passing silently through the empty streets of Sacramento, a righteous Druid from the dark side of the Moon, taking strength from winter mists emanating from the Earth.

Yet, I think others see me in a different light.

Last night, the weather was windy and wet (although not that cold) - still good enough for the trench coat. On the way to drop some mail off at the Post Office, I stopped to loiter outside the AM/PM convenience market, speaking loudly through the little security slit to the clerk, who was locked-in the store for the graveyard shift.

An African-American woman approached to make a purchase. Upon observing:

• my wrinkled, mud-spattered trench coat;
• my age-battered wide-brim Australian hat squashed over my head;
• my non-descript jeans and amorphous shoes; plus,
• a friendly mutt, unusually unkempt in the wind;

the woman knew where her Christian duty lay on such a dark night. Sweet thing, she offered to buy me a cup of hot cocoa!