I was riding home on the
bus heading to the 2100 South Trax station yesterday following my
Wellness workout. The workout was OK for a lite day workout, I was a
little irritated by the way the staff handles a lot of the
participant, especially me, but that is a posting for another day.
A homeless guy, least I
think he was homeless, boarded the bus he was holding a card board
sign proclaiming his homelessness and that he needed and funds anyone
could afford, to help him in his homeless world. I was mildly
surprised when he started mumbling to himself but was also trying to
engage people round him. When he did break from his presumed
psychosis long enough I realized he was shaking down the other bus
riders for money. He was clearly struggling to stay in this reality
and I kinda felt for him because he spoke like he was also
developmentally disabled.
The time was almost five o
clock and the bus crowded and everyone pretty much ignored the
panhandler which was ok if not pathetic, I was put off at first
thinking great another bum but I pushed myself past my weakness of
classicism and tried to see the guy for what he was, just another
lost soul on SSI and who knows what other entitlements just trying to
get by.
I carry a number of wadded
up dollars in the top of my backpack in easy access to cover
immediate needs like tips, bus fare and specially to give to bums and
hobos. Its not a lot just four of five dollars which has escaped
being spent and somehow wandered to a poked or bottom of the back
pack, crumpled and wadded and trying to stay out of sight, tired
money. I also call this my lucky money or blessed money. I figure if
I give this money away I re-prime my luck coefficient of just maybe
get a few more blessings in my blessing box—I need all the
blessings I can get.
So the card board sign guy
is asking everyone on the coach for a dollar, everyone that is
except me! I thought just holding up the buck and saying “here
buddy” but then held back. Who does he think he is? The little
prick will take everyone's hand out but mine. I will give him the
buck if he asks but not until. I kept trying to get his eyes to
recognize me. I felt like Donkey on Shrek “ pick me, Pick me!”
But there was no way.
So crazy boy is not as
crazy as he would like folks to think he is. He knows enough to know
most folks in a wheelchair are on entitlements and are his
competition out on the corners.
The bus ride ended and I
de-boarded the vehicle and headed for my train station. I passed the
cardboard man who was high tailing it to Carl Jr's at the other end
of the parking lot-I could not tell if he was late or dinner or
hitting people up as they were going to dinner either way he seemed
motivated. I felt let down, I really wanted to give him the dollar in
my back pack—more so then I realized-I suddenly felt blessing
deficient in need of a fix.
3 comments:
This was such an interesting posting to me. The interpretation that the homeless man saw you as comptetion especially. It's not uncommon for those in wheelchairs to be less fortunate (granted that's a stereotype in and of itself and therefore demeaning), perhaps the man just thought either a. you wouldn't have anything to give, or b. you're as bad off as he.
I also was curious about the need to be picked. Wouldn't it have been MORE blessings worthy to not be picked, to take the hit to the Ego and still go up to the man and say,"hey, this is for you."
Just interesting, you know I do this too. I think I must have picked it up from you. I keep change in my unused ash tray of my car for just incase there's someone on the corner who looks a little bit in need.
Actually, I would have just given him the waddded currency but just got caught in the self struggle of seeing if he would ask--thanks for the comment.
Oh great dilemmas! It speaks of the times I carry only my drivers license and plastic - when I look at folk I deem to look legitimately deserving and can't give them anything but a smile and a silent prayer that they will be ok. I'm a jerk. I now carry a few folded dollars, too. We live in a violent world. Who am I to judge who deserves a handout or not. The whole matter leaves much to be desired.
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