The summer heat is really starting to become quite opressive. Consequently, this weekend I desperately needed to repair my swamp cooler. I drove to my local Grocery super-center to see if perhaps they sold the necessary supplies I needed for the job, which they did. On my way back out to my car, merchandise in hand, I was accosted by a toothless homeless woman.
“Hello sir. May I ask you a question?”
My silence, irritated expression, and unwillingness to look her in the eyes should have served as a sufficient response.
“I’m not asking for money per se...” She continues as I load my SUV.
Per Se?
“You see sir, I’m stranded and just need a little bit of cash so I may call my husband so he can wire me some money. I’m not from round these parts sir, see? I’d really like to get home and see my kids and...”
Typical sales technique: keep talking never allowing the customer the chance to say no.
“Hey, look lady, I don’t have any cash. I used my debit card today to buy my stuff. Sorry.”
She pauses and stares at me, pathetically waiting...waiting... for something, I don’t know what. Godot perhaps? A sudden outpouring of generosity and mercy? A spontaneous, radical change in my beliefs and values? You see, I don’t oblige panhandlers, I never have. I despise the uncomfortable situation they place people in. I despise the internal moral struggle I am presented with every time this occurs, because yes, I am a human being and yes, I do feel sorry for these unfortunate souls. However, the last thing I am willing to do is contribute to some drug addict’s habit, or finance some fucking wino’s trip to the liquor store, when I have my own demons and vices. Call me selfish.
I especially despise being lied to by panhandlers.
“Sorry lady. Good luck.” I tell her as I swing into my car and slam the door and start the engine. "Under Pressure" by Queen is playing on my cd player at an uncomfortably high volume. I stare at her from beneath my sunglasses. She pathetically lingers for a second longer. Through the swirling heat I see her body tense up, she juts her lower jaw forward and her neck jerks to the right a couple of times; the danse macabre of the Meth addict. She then turns around and walks away only to approach someone else. Only to give the same spiel I can only assume she’s rehearsed hundreds, no...thousands, of times before.
18 comments:
Ugh. I've never seen a methhead up close.
Don't people understand that we don't want to have anything to with them?
If I wanted to talk to any bible beater or homeless friend, I'd engage them, but I don't. Please do not talk to me. Don't tell me about Jesus and hell and don't waste my time with a lie. I have a enough jokers to deal with all day long, and those people help pay my bills.
that is very true and a refreshing change to people who use the same whining speech to defend this kind of people. I also hate it when ladies put their screaming baby in front of your nose and asks you to feed them. I tend to slip in a coin or two to people kneeling down silently in a dark street corner. At least they still have some dignity, they don't cry around acting like a martyr.
Aydreeyin. Serious Methhead tweakers are very surreal, grotesque charicatures of real people. Especially the homeless ones. Their darting eyes and grinding teeth and constant nervous laughs and sudden movements are quite disarming.
Sar. I hear you there. In this case I KNEW it was for drugs. I have a trained eye, unfortunately.
She approached me despite the fact I completely avoided her gaze. Tunnel vision doesn't work all the time. Despite the fact we all wear "blinders"(in more ways than one) situations like this are oftentimes unavoidable.
LeeLoreya. This happened to me once. At first I got really upset and was about to scream at the mother. Then I saw her daughter. I felt really bad for this child, she was so dishevled and looked so sad and sickly, so I turned back around, went into the store, and bought this kid a candybar and a sandwich.
I don't think avoiding eye contact would help me. You see, I have "SUCKER!" written across my forehead. Unfortunately, this does not constitute FALSE advertising. Even more unfortunate is the fact that no one is PAYING me to display this message on my body!
And, I call the place you desribed on my site: Too Much Temptation!!
Love the "danse macabre of the Meth addict" phrase. You nailed it.
Very interesting post. I think you voice most opinions of the situation. Thanks for sharing your experience. Well written.
Thanks for commenting earlier too.
Wordwhiz. "Unfortunately, this does not constitute FALSE advertising."
O.K now I'm really curious what the hell happened to you this weekend.
Sierrabella. Ah, so you've experienced this first hand? Kinda creepy isn't it?
YES!!!! The complimenting commenter strikes!
Complimenting Commenter, no I thank you. Comment by comment you are making the world a much happier place.
Again, thank you.
Hermes: Oh you know very well!
What is the translation for the Gaelic:
Yal tneinevnoc ?
Nope...no false advertising here!
I usually end up giving money to the homeless too - especially if they tell me I have a nice smile. I'm an easy mark.
Wordwhiz. You know what? I think I'd give a panhandler some change if they flashed me a toothless smile and a quick wink, and then proceeded to tell me I have nice eyes.
Unfortunately, they're not that creative.
I see. So you wear the hat to hide the faint image of the word SUCKER that's written across your forehead too, huh?
The Complimenting Commenter is most wise. It's amazing what a few well-placed compliments can earn.
No, it conceals the faint outline of a scarlet "A" I have on mine.
A = Asshole.
That's a slick fucking line, Sar. Love it. I'da probably taken a cute witty guy like that up on his offer.
In fact, I've hurtled myself into the dating scene and have a feeling this will generate some hilarious new stories soon.
I digress--
This post kinda affects me. Here in Vancouver, we have an enormous problem with homelessness. In a post on my blog I've written a really in-depth account of Vancouver's homelessness and drug problem. Being the major port for Asia in North America, we get an incredible amount of traffic through the ports--and an insane amount of drugs, most notably heroin. Coupled with our relaxed drug laws compared to the US, Vancouver has a drug problem like no city in North America.
It's a real fuckin' shame.
That said, we've got at least 20,000 homeless in this city, thanks to the mildest winter weather in Canada-- we're warmer than Seattle.
I deal with panhandlers daily. I seldom donate and it kills me. The aggressiveness level has skyrocketed here in Vancouver and they've brought in new laws that are meant to curb it.
Still, I don't think a panhandler who sits there silently with a sign and a begging eye, respectfully granting you your space, is doing anything wrong. I think they have every right to do that. Occasionally, these people are the ones I'll contribute to.
That said, I never turn in bottles for recycling. Don't matter how many I've got, I always leave them in the alley. Binning's a great way for the impoverished to support themselves.
I'm one great big fucking bleeding heart left-wing socialist with an attitude. But yeah, I feel for some of the folks. It's so fucking tragic when it's drugs, though, but I won't support those sorts of beggars. There's a line.
thelastditch.blogspot.com
And the link to my short look at the strange drug scenario that ironically makes Vancouver the number one place in the world to buy or smoke dope, according to High Times magazine. Sorta relevant to the above. Vansterdam @ the Last Ditch.
Gee, you really got me goin'.
Tacit. Lol, great idea. Normally I probably would have but the mid-project excitement had ahold of me. I was in a huge hurry to get home and get the AC working.
Or maybe I should have handed the homeless person MY phone and said "Sally Struthers on line one. She wants her 2 dollars back."
Sar. There's also the one where you approach a pretty girl and ask HER for a quarter. When she asks you why you answer with: "I gotta call my momma and tell her I just found the girl of my dreams." ;)
Steff. That's a really good idea you have there with the cans and bottles. However, I can't help but wonder if they'd spend it still on smack.
I think ultimately the best thing you can do is donate your time and help out in a shelter or something. But who the hell has time to do that? I don't even have time to blog nowadays!
As much as I hate the thought of delaying the publication of part two of "Non-Negotiable", I just tagged you. You're now, officially, "IT"!
(ha..ha..ha...)
OK heres my question. Are there any legitimate beggars. People who arent lying to you. Because I always end up believeing them and Im sure fueling their addictions. When they approach you Hermes, there really looking for me. Feel free to tell them so.
Wordwhiz. I'm deep in the creative shit right now working on Non-Negotiable pt 2, but I PROMISE I will provide my list shortly thereafter. My word is my bond.
Kirsi. I don't know if there are legitimate ones...but the ones that ask for food usually get something out of me. I'll buy homeless people sandwiches or what not. I don't like giving money though.
Sar. Oh come on! Do you think I'd ever use a line as cheezy as that?
I've always leaned toward the one where I check the tag on your shirt then say: "As I thought...made in heaven." That's classier and you know what? I'm a classy guy.
Hermes: I trust your word and anxiously await part 2. I'd prefer to see that first. Take your time.
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