John Loane:

The day Cromby kicked me out of his apartment, I didn't know what to do. But I had an idea. You see, I'd nipped his ATM card out of his wallet while he was passed out earlier that morning. And I knew the PIN number because I'd watched him punch it many, many times. Cromby aint the most perspicacious drunk, you know. You wanna kick me out on the street, Cromb? So I figured: fuck him. And walked up to the bank on Seneca Ave. and withdrew $600, as much as I could. Then I said, I should go get me a bus ticket and hie my ass out of here before he gets wise. And that's exactly what I did. I decided to head south.