the old man asked me what i did with the lottery ticket i bought for him, i told him i gave it to the guy in the store for a tip, i said i threw it away, as i am talking, sitting on the couch, the old man gets up and goes into the kitchen drawer, all of a sudden, i feel my hair being grabbed and the knife is near my face, he tells me, let,s go get the lottery ticket, so we go to my crummy apt,where the losing lottery ticket is on the table, i give him the lottery ticket and he goes away, not to speak to me since, to me it is good ridence. this is an old mexican man, a ww22 vet, i used to talk with, i feel there is no love lost, why am i writing this, i don,t know, i don,t think to call the police, but the other people here like the old man, they are shocked, surprised, but what about me, can,t trust those mexicans, is that the rule???
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