While it was happening I recognized that it didn’t look great.

My outreach colleague was driving and slowed down. After rolling down my passenger side window, she leaned over and shouted a name.

The Woman she was shouting at was walking on the sidewalk towards us. Her stiletto knee-high boots were the same color as her miniskirt. The bustier did not fully cover her waist. Bright eyeliner and false eyelashes made her eyes pop. The purse slung over her shoulder swung with each confident step she took.

The Woman didn’t hear my colleague, so I shouted the same name out the window. She turned and took a few steps towards the car. I pointed at the driver. The Woman smiled in recognition, revealing many missing teeth, and came to talk with us through the window.

It could have looked like we were negotiating money for sex.

“I’ve been looking for you,” my colleague said, turning on the emergency lights. “I have a lot of mail for you.”

The Woman and my colleague discussed meeting at the office so she could get her letters. A toothless smile again bloomed on The Woman’s face as she blurted out, “Oh! I haven’t used fentanyl in 14 days!”

Dear reader, I had no idea who this person was; I just met her. That didn’t stop me from bursting into applause. I was the only one clapping. It was a reason to celebrate! She beamed.

“Where are you staying now?” my colleague asked after congratulating her.

“I live in That Neighborhood now,” The Woman said. “Near That Street and That Avenue. There’s a hole in the fence near that intersection. Go through that hole and a little further back through the trees, and you’ll find me there.”

Through a fence and then on a dirt path in stiletto heels!

Don’t judge a book by its cover.