Diabetic or Druggie?

Today I was approached by a customer who had the sole purpose of informing me that there was a syringe in one of the oversized flower pots outside we have outside of the store. "A syringe," I asked. "A syringe. Like a hypodermic needle. It's in your flower pot." His voice shook as he said this and he spoke quickly and nervously. He seemed to be pretty upset by his discovery.

Anyway, I thanked the man for telling me about the needle, but I didn't so thank him for taking his time to help prevent someone from contracting a disease from the needle if they should have the misfortune of touching it. No. I am not so noble. I thanked him for providing me with yet another unforgettable pawn shop experience.

I told my manager about the syringe in the flower pot and he suggested I put on some rubber gloves before touching it. Shaking my head in scorn, I responded that he was a wuss and that I would be picking up the syringe with my mouth. Of course, I was only joking, but then I discovered that didn't have any rubber gloves and had to settle for a folded paper towel.

Once outside, I worked my way down the row of flower pots we have lined up against the building. They're all filled with dirt but the dirt is plantless since it's not warm enough for anything to grow yet. Maybe the naked dirt looks too vulnerable or maybe people genuinely mistake the flower pots for trash cans, either way, people are constantly throwing trash into the flower pots, and today was no exception. I picked out cigarette butts, chewed gum wads, receipts, and then I finally made it to the final flower pot where it--the syringe--lay.

I was surprised to find it sitting in the center of one of those drink carriers that you get in fast food drive-throughs, but I was even more surprised to see that it had been capped with this tiny piece of orange plastic which must have been made for the sole purpose of concealing the needle. And next to the drink holder and syringe was a crumpled McDonald's bag and cup.

It seems to me that some diabetic individual had stopped outside of our pawn shop to eat their unhealthy, discount food at which time they tested their blood sugar levels, innocently injected themselves with insulin, and then neglected to eat dispose of their trash or medical devices. But why would anyone choose to eat outside of a pawn shop in weather that has been unseasonably cold? It could also be that the syringe was discarded into the flower pot after the McDonald's trash had been thrown in. Even so, I can't imagine a drug addict politely capping their needle after shooting up. Of course, I like to imagine the more dramatic of the two scenarios. If only I had found a burnt spoon in the near vicinity of the needle.

The world may never know what happened outside of the pawn shop, but it sure can speculate.