Yesterday I was out for a jog when a homeless man stopped me.
"Excuse me?" he said.
I took out my earbuds.
"What's the price of copper...per pound?" he asked.
"Oh wow, I have no idea."
He looked disappointed and then pushed his shopping cart away. I guess I should be flattered that I looked like the sort of gentleman who would know such a thing.
I've heard there's a thriving trade in stolen copper, but still, when did our homeless become so entrepreneurial? In my day, the only time they brought up "copper" was to say, "You'll never take me alive, copper!"