She stood in the middle of the dirty sidewalk in front of the courthouse like a prickly weed.

Her barely 5 foot stature, and sub 100lbs weight wasn't imposing by any stretch of the imagination, but still...not something you'd touch with a bare hand. Her dishwater blond hair was stringy, and clearly hadn't been washed in a while, and her skin had the telltale pick marks of someone with an extreme fondness for crystal meth. Although she could easily pass for 30, she probably wasn't 25 years old yet.

Her male companion sat on the grass a few yards away, and watched as she approached passers by with the sad story, "I just need four dollars more for a bus ticket home". Most ignored her, and just kept walking, eyes forward. Occasionally, someone would question her authenticity, or offer to take her to the bus station and buy the ticket.

She noticed the suit a block away, and forgot all about her enterprise. She focused obsessively on him as he approached. He was 6 foot two, and the best dressed man on the block. He wore a hat, carried a briefcase, and was black.

As he arrived at her little patch of concrete real estate, she stepped directly in front of him. She stood on her tip-toes and stretched her neck up to within shouting distance, and shrieked "White Power, Neeegrow.". Then stepped back down and reiterated more softly, "white power", in case he hadn't smelled her words the first time.

HIs smile looked genuine, as he nodded to her and said "It looks like all that white power you've been smoking has been rotting your skin and teeth, sweetie. Maybe you should give it a rest".

The weed exploded in a blast of shrieks and curses, as she turned towards the boy seated on the grass. "Are you going to let him talk to me like that?" she accused. I got up from my bench and started toward them. The weed's boy stood, and did nothing.

An hour later, much to her horror, she was sure she heard the bailiff introduce "All rise for the Honorable Judge Neegrow"