He did not say anything he just turned and walked a bit down the street and then up to a Harley Fatboy.  He slid astride of the bike and pushed up the kickstand then waited to see if she would crawl into the bitch seat behind him.  But while he waited he told her a story. “There is a couple down the street a ways about fifteen blocks to be precise. Man and a woman and a two year old daughter.  The parents have a nasty meth issue and the kid has been with DCFS more than her family. Neither of the adults has ever held a job in their life but they are always on the lookout where to get money for their next fix and not on the lookout for their kid.”<br/><br/>He looked at her with too knowing eyes and then carried on. “Meth heads tend to get worn down and lose their souls to the drug. They can be up for days and not even know it. They get kind of crazy when coming down and needing to sleep and recover and well if they happen to run into a middle aged husband leaving a bar one never knows what might happen. Course too bad for their kid she is probably fated to repeat the cycle after she spends her whole life in foster care getting abused by those who were supposed to take care of her.”<br/><br/>He stood the bike up and still waited while she digested that “it is just another part and parcel of a blighted Creation that god being the raging bitch she is has turned her back on it. And trust me the almighty is a woman and I think she has been ragging for the last few eons.”