I tell him that he’s get me confused with someone else. He deny’s it. again demanding that I open the door to the tent. I begin to do so, the zipper sticks as usual. As I do this I continue to talk. Before I can get the tent open, he realizes that the voice he’s hearing is not the voice of the person he’s looking for. He doesn’t apologize, only tells me to not worry about it, and then wanders off.
Evidently, someone who used to pitch a tent where I do now, and used the same kind of cheap ass wal-mart brand tent, had left town owing money and drugs, to a lot of people, and those people, seeing my tent in that location, just assumed I was him.
Low level drug dealers aren’t the brightest folks around. Their clientele are mostly homeless and poor people.