I caught a flicker of movement glanced over at the door to my shop and there stood a woman, an urban camper. I buzzed her inside.
"Excuse me, but the pawn shop down on the corner won't buy our tools."
She appeared to be about fifty, that or she'd just been rode hard and put away wet; weather worn.
"Okay. I'm sorry about that but how may I help you?"
Her, "You wants 'em."
What the heck I thought. Said, "Let's step outside and set them on the bench." She had a man with her, little fella about her age or a bit older. He had a black rucksack, it sagged.
He gave me a once over, seemed to settle in his mind I wouldn't rip him off and eased off the backpack. As he's unloading she begins with, "They done went and turned off our power. No lights, all the food in my icebox has gone bad. I just don't know what we'll do now and we're hungry."
They didn't appear the type to have owned a home or to pay rent on an apartment...but who am I. She didn't carry a purse, he only held the backpack. Best guess, street people in need of either drugs or drink. The wrench set he placed on my bench was probably stolen. Hence the reason the pawn shop turned them away.
She began to weep. I dug out some cash and extended my hand towards the man. She reached and snatched it away, said, "Oh hell no, you took the last of our money and I never saw a penny of it."
They turned and began to walk away. He yelled back, "Careful, I saw a roach climb out of those wrenches."
Nice set. Craftsman, forged in the good 'ole USA. What the heck.