Yesterday, I said I was done with panhandlers — done with relating stories about panhandlers and their techniques. Well, I have only one thing to say about myself: Liar, liar, pants on fire. Pants a virtual inferno! (That didn’t come out quite right.) In today’s Impromptus, I publish one more letter, giving one more story, too good to pass up — as so many are. And I will likely be back at this trough again. Of course, there are many other subjects in that column too — not everyone is a junkie for the panhandler genre. Although a nerve, among many of us, seems to have been struck.