Man, that's a lot different than riding the bicycle a mile or so when 14 to ask the hobum if he'd get us some Colt 45 or a jug of Red Mountain if we paid for a bottle of Gallo White Port for him.
Small town...everyone knew everyone. No bums where I am from, but there were plenty of dirt bags. Trouble was, I didn't need people talking about what I was up to.
That, and I could hunt the entire way up there back in the glory 90's. Can't quite do that now