Maybe she was right.
But I had to know.
The following afternoon, I visited a thrift store across town.
I bought an old brown jacket with a damaged pocket, faded jeans, a gray knitted cap, and worn boots.
The entire outfit cost eleven dollars.
I stopped shaving for a couple of days and left my expensive watch, wallet, and wedding ring at home.
Inside my jacket, I carried only my phone and four dollars in small bills and coins.
When Denise saw me, she shook her head.
“You look terrible.”
“That’s the plan.”
She adjusted my collar.
“Your mother would either be extremely proud or scold you for doing something foolish.”
I smiled.
“Probably both.”
I parked four blocks from Rosie’s and walked toward Grand Avenue.
Almost immediately, I noticed something uncomfortable.
People avoided looking at me.
A woman pushing a stroller moved farther away.
