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a guy i noticed earlier in the store saw me as i saw him; he changed direction and walked towards my van. i nodded to him, acknowledging that i'd seen him. he stopped about 20 feet from my van, and asked if i could spare a cigarette. i said no. he looked at me, then said "you ain't got a cigarette?" i repeated myself, then added that i quit last month.
he looked at me, then grinned. "c'mon, man. you ain't got a smoke?" he started walking towards me again, at which time i told him, pretty frenchly, to stop, and stay away from my van.
"or what?" he laughed, putting a hand in his pocket. i had drawn my gun from its holster when he asked the second question. now, i held it
against the steering wheel, where he could see it. i told him, in french, to get away from my van, and that i wasn't going to tell him again.
he took his hand from his pocket, holding a set of keys. "sorry, man, uhhh...sorry. i'm sorry.." he walked backwards for about 10 feet, then turned and took off.