It's a windy first day of spring. I'm doing my little job, picking up considerable trash outside my building. Two groups of squeaky-clean young whites are carrying armfuls of bag lunches up Second Avenue. They say "Want lunch?" to Sunday sidewalkers. People ten blocks down might want their charity.
Oh -- they must be Christians.
I'd say, "Hey, could you get your Boss to stop the wind, from blowing all this trash around here?"
"Or at least keep the free lunch trash off our lawn. Huh?"