Making the rounds. As seen from a moving vehicle.
Where I grew up, there was a cat lady we called Misses Lady. She was one of the few White people in my Boyle Heights neighborhood, no doubt a holdout from the White Flight era, and now that I think back, it was probably due to a fixed income. She went around the neighborhood feeding dry mix to stray cats and lollipops to feral children that roamed the sidewalks, you just had to ask her nicely. At one point, she started collecting cans to turn in for change and she asked that we bring her cans in exchange for the lollipop. Eventually her tone turned sour and she started demanding cans, muttering resentments against the can-less kids. Our excitement at her usual arrival ended shortly thereafter.
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