That story really always moved me.
Ok, not really. Not until I was older.
Maybe, not even until tonight.
Ashley Scarlett approached me in the Chuy's parking lot. I had just enjoyed a meal with some friendlies of mine, Jaclyn and Taylor (SHOUT OUT). She was noticeably distraught, not disheveled and not entirely homeless looking. Actually, not homeless looking at all-- she had a Blackberry and a fake (or could've been real) Louis Vuitton. I rolled down the window, much to the folly of my buddies. Miss Ashley Scarlett started talking and it was a good two minutes before we even knew what she needed.
She gave me more details than a Wikipedia entry. Literally, she told me she had just met a friend for dinner that she used to substitute with in Weatherford. They met halfway because her friend is now in McKinney-- actually she said Collin County, then McKinney. She continued to ramble on about her husband being out of town and owning some car dealership, she gave us the address of the dealership, her mother's maiden name, her sister's first daughter's social security number and a lock of her hair. She claimed she left her wallet inside of Chuy's and that it was nowhere to be found. Apparently she knows no one in Dallas and I'm guessing her friend that she met for dinner was a real ass because she didn't come back to rescue her.
She was almost in tears and I was convinced that no one would be able to make up all of that information in the middle of the parking lot off the cuff. She claimed she had no gas and no money. She couldn't get home.
There is literally a gas station across the street from Chuy's. I told her to drive over there and I'd fill up her car. She said she wouldn't make it. I drove her over to the gas station and filled up a gas can for her. And I still wasn't too suspicious.
And then, the attendant said, "are you buying this for her? Do you know her?" I told him no and he shook his head. I should've drawn the bridge diagram for him, but I just wanted Miss Ashley Scarlett to get back to Weatherford in one piece.
Then, she asked me for cash. I told her the homeless guy at Greenville and Mockingbird bled me dry and she asked me to drive to an ATM. At any point I'm waiting on her to stab Taylor, who was sitting in the backseat with her. Then, Taylor and Jaclyn told her we had no money and couldn't help her anymore. We sent ole Ash off into the cold, cold night with two gallons of gas and hopefully a warm story to tell at the nursing home tomorrow when she goes and visits her grandmother, who is probably very ill and couldn't come help her tonight.
That's what I want to believe anyway.
Jesus or a scam artist-- I'm out 16 bones.