I didn't know why I kept doing this to myself. Maybe it was just the thought of possibly getting free food that kept me coming to the crowded parking lot. After all, with a dozen different food trucks circled about and people mingling all over meant that there was more of a chance that I could get in, that I wouldn't be noticed. But every time it was the same. People noticed me. How could they not with my patched and ragged clothes. A beggar was automatically viewed with suspicion, watched more closely.
I stuck my hands in my pockets, feeling the holes in the lining there as I moved back towards the exit, once again without any food. I could see the half eaten foods in garbage cans of the meals that people hadn't liked, but I couldn't exactly go diving into them right now. Not when people watched the poor person like a hawk. I exhaled, shuffling off to a shadowy corner. I should stop coming to these things, I barely ever got food from this place, but still, I had hope that one day it would work out and I could get a bite of one of those delicious scents that wafted through the air. One day.
-Inspiration from going to a Food Truck Round-Up
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