The drunken man with a blue hat.

As I continued walking down the street, still dismissive of the man's simple request, I came across something rather odd indeed: Someone had misplaced a blue hat at the side of a bar.

Now, of course I thought of the man I had encountered earlier from above. Thinking that maybe he had a collection of these blue hats and was a lowly drunkard. Unfortunately, I was mistaken.

The real owner of this blue hat came out of the mid-town bar and turned right towards me. Realizing that this might have been his, I reached my arm out with the hat in hand, as if to give it to him.

The drunken fool swipes for the hat, completely missing, and falls flat on his face.

Immediately I say, "Sir, are you alright? Do you need a hand?" He replies in his drunken slosh, "I errr okayuhhhh, g-g-gimme d-datder hat."

So once again, I hold out the hat. This time, the man is not standing, but on his knees and is now capable of grabbing the hat from my hand. Fumbling to his feet, he hobbles away while putting "his" hat back onto his head. Back into the bar, for more senseless indulgence.

Only being four o'clock in the afternoon and on a Tuesday, I felt a sudden pain for this new man with a blue hat. Wondering what drove him to such mad intoxication at such an early hour.

Shrugging off the odd encounter, I walked away from the dingy bar. Hoping that one day, I will not be a man who drowns himself in sorrow, as to hide himself from the world.