GHOSTS...I SEE 'EM SOMETIMES

Yesterday at the third world grocery, Ann and I were headed for the check out when I saw a ghost in the express lane. This woman was a stone assed junky 9 years ago when I was doing street outreach down on the drag. She would stumble down the stairs on clinic day, reeking that heroin glaze and ask for a needle exchange, we were not allowed to do that (one of the restrictions of our funding) . The conversation went something like this every time:

Junky chick : I need the needle exchange....
Me: Sorry, we don't do that here, I can give you a bleach kit and instructions.
JC: Where is the needle exchange? I need the needle exchange.
Me: I can't tell you where the needle exchange van is inside this building.
JC: I don't want a bleach kit, where is the needle exchange at ?
Me: I'm sorry, I can't tell you IN HERE ( nodding head toward the exit)
JC: Mumbles and cusses under her breath, makes that pathetic junky face and ambles up the stairs out into the alley.
Me: Follows her out and discloses location of needle exchange van, or if I didn't know exactly, point her in the right direction.

We had this exact conversation every Thursday for over a year. I knew it was her because of her tattoo's.
And there she was, in the express lane at the third world, with 2 toddlers no less.
I guess she cleaned up. Good for her. And our efforts at least prevented an HIV or Hep C infection, as evidenced by healthy young ones.
We didn't speak, we didn't make eye contact. But I saw a ghost from the past that reminded me what we did was worthwhile.
And that felt good.