We were walking down Penn Ave, headed for a concert at the point, when we were accosted by an agitated man with bushy moustache. He looked like a construction worker. He held a notepad and a $5 bill in his hand.
"I need your help," he said. "I am not a beggar or a hold-up man. I was leaving the work site when my van was side swiped and had to be towed. Now I am stuck in town and I need $25 for a taxi ride home. I'll pay you back, I'll pay you $40 if you'll just give me $20".
Larry said, quite reasonably, "Lets walk down to the taxi stand together, we are going that way anyway."
But the man held his ground and went through his story again, with more detail. He showed us his hand and said his finger was broken.
I opened my purse. I was going to give him $10.

At that moment flashily dressed black woman hurried towards us, shouting, "Don't give that man any money. He's a scam! I seen him get money from other old couples!"
"Why are you following me around, you whore!" he shouted back at her.
I closed my purse and we quickly walked away towards the festival as they continued to shout at each other - "I'm going to call the police on you" and "You do that, I'm calling the police on you!'
Much, much later, as we were on the T coming home, it occurred to me that we had been the target of Guerilla theater. The timing was perfect, the script tight. And they do things like that at the Arts Festival.