The first thing I noticed about his pickup was that it had seen better days. It was well used. A strip of duct tape was holding on one of the tail lights. In the back was a bunch of old equipment, but I couldn't tell what it was for.
The guy driving this beat up truck was in his late 40s or early 50s with a mustache and glasses. He squinted at me when I asked him my question, but he didn't fully turn to face me. That's usually a sign. He took one moment to think about it and then he said, "I don't need a prayer." He laughed at that moment through broken teeth. "Don't need one," he said again. And then he hopped into his truck and drove off.
I got back into my car and waited until he was out of sight. Then I prayed for him.
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