Three of us were walking on a sidewalk in San Antonio, on our way to a restaurant when a man joined us. He acted as though he was best friends with Duane (our producer/director). Duane kept looking around at me as the guy chatted to him, with an expression of “What’s going on here?” When the three of us walked into a restaurant, the waiter asked “How many?” and we heard “Four.” It was the stranger that gave that number. He then sat down at our table and started yapping to us.
Then came a pitch for money. I told him he could have some if he would let me talk to him. I then went through the gospel, and gave him $5. He then wanted me to pay for a meal as well, and kept on talking about being a “workaholic.” He had the “aholic” part right. Each of us could feel a spirit of anger in his voice. It was very intimidating. I told him that he was only getting the $5. I took hold of his hand, prayed for him, and he left. It was a bazaar experience.
Then came a pitch for money. I told him he could have some if he would let me talk to him. I then went through the gospel, and gave him $5. He then wanted me to pay for a meal as well, and kept on talking about being a “workaholic.” He had the “aholic” part right. Each of us could feel a spirit of anger in his voice. It was very intimidating. I told him that he was only getting the $5. I took hold of his hand, prayed for him, and he left. It was a bazaar experience.
