Helping the Handicapped
I am no myself. My skin is a cinnamon cafe. I am tall and lanky. I have a black pencil moustache and I am clothed in a yellow and blue striped shirt with blue jeans held up by a black belt. I have brown eyes and black hair. My face is angular and topped with a flat top. I wait outside the store for the elederly old man in the wheelchair. It is my job to walk him through the store. He arrives and I push him. We go up a ramp that seems to lasts forever.