I stopped at the Clark station at the corner of Grand and Lewis for my usual hit of mental health insurance and some beef jerky. The fellow ahead of me in line was overly talkative by MY standards; he said he was on his way to the courthouse to bail out his brother, and that he was SUPPOSED to be on vacation.
I commented that that was a lousy way to spend one's vacation, and he decided that he like the beef jerky I was buying, and got back into line behind me to get some for himself. I was starting the car when he walked by and asked me which way I was going, and if I could give him a lift; he had taken a bus from Key Lime Cove, where his family was, and still needed to get to the courthouse. I hesitated, and then gave him a ride.
He said that his brother had gotten drunk and smashed the windows out of a METRA station, and then had smashed the windows out of their sister's van. He was convinced that his brother had finally had that "moment of clarity", and was going to clean up his act; I mentioned that my best friend had never quite gotten to that point before he died. He offered me money for gas; I declined once, and then accepted it. We got to the courthouse, he thanked me, and I wished him and his brother luck. And I went home.