"What the hell did you just put in my daughter's bag?" you ask the sweaty man in the dirty white t-shirt standing in the doorway before you.
"It's Trick-or-Treat, lady. I gave her a treat," he replies with no small amount of indignity.
"A treat?" you scoff, digging into your daughter's pillowcase full of candy. You fish out the small bottle the man dropped inside: a 100ml bottle of vodka. You shove it angrily in front of his face. "This is cheap liquor, asshole!"
"Well, not everybody can afford the good stuff, lady," he says with his head down, almost apologetically. "Times are tough."
You feel warmth in your cheeks as your embarrassment causes your face to flush a deep red. You've given no consideration to this man's situation. He's given what he can in the spirit of the nation's most beloved holiday, Halloween.
"I'm sorry, sir," you say. You lower the bottle from his face and crack it open, then lower it to your daughter. "Drink this, honey."
A warm smile covers the man's face as your daughter sips at the grain alcohol. He wishes you a merry Halloween and shuts the door.