I’ve been a bit out of sorts lately. Feeling an overwhelming desire to be alone for a bit, I decided to take a trip to a coffeehouse. In between cups of coffee I went out and smoked. While out there, I was approached by a heavy-set Hispanic woman. I could see by the look on her face what I was in for. Sure enough, she started giving a sob story about being homeless and needed to raise just $15 to be able to get a place to sleep for the night. Wanting to be left alone, I stopped her and just gave her a couple of bucks.
She asked me if I’d just started my shift. I gave her a confused look. Turns out that she thought I was an employee. I hadn’t thought about it, but I was wearing a golf shirt the same color as the coffeehouse chain’s logo. Further, mistakingly believing that a bigwig from Osaka was stopping by work today I wore black slacks. Looking at myself I realized that I was one logo on my shirt and an apron short of wearing employee clothes. It was kind of weird.
Having gotten her couple of bucks, the woman promptly walked into the coffeehouse and ordered a mocha. I was too ambivalent to sarcastically be so proud that my money was going to a good cause. I was nonetheless surprised at the gumption she had to do it right in front of me, though.
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Not long after I first started working in New York, way back in 1994, a woman came up to me outside Penn Station one evening and asked for a dollar. She said that she needed to take the subway back home to Cambria Heights (a neighborhood in eastern Queens) but couldn’t afford the fare. I must’ve been in an unusually charitable mood and gave her the dollar.
I found out, not long thereafter, that the subway doesn’t go anywhere remotely near Cambria Heights.
Reminds me of the day at Southern Tech when a few of us tailed the “homeless” panhandler from the entrance, and watched him get into a reasonably well-maintained sports car and drive off.
Ever since, I have refused to give anyone money for panhandling. I did give 20 bucks to a guy who said he needed some help a few weeks back, but I’ll post the story sometime soon for that.
The gypsies in Bulgaria would pull that kind of crap all the time.
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