Random encounter with the ghost of Barry White

As I walked into the office today after getting lunch, a middle-aged black gentleman asked me if I had a light.

He was the spitting image of Barry White. What’s more, he was actually—I kid you not—wearing a full-on seventies-style white leisure suit. He was standing on the steps at the entrance of the building, leaning on a wheel chair. Attached to the wheel chair was what appeared to be an oxygen tank.

“Nope, sorry,” I said, and walked past, pretending I hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary.