After we checked in to our hotel (and after we'd interviewed a noted author and occasional celebrity who had forgotten we were coming and was, therefore, drunk at two in the afternoon) I went for a walk on Seawall Boulevard. Down the street a crazy man approached me, wearing old green scrubs and a sunburnt face coated with a week's worth of grime. He held a Slurpee cup upright in his palm and held out in front of him, which I assumed was meant to hold donations from tourists. At a distance of about twelve feet he muttered "Hihowsitgoing". At five feet he said "Bang". As he passed me he explained "I'm a groooown man". I saw him a few minutes later on my way back, following a Latino family into a hotel lobby, saying "Bang" whenever they tried to wave him away. It looked about as lucrative as any profession in Galveston.