One time I saw this thing on NBC’s Dateline about panhandlers that drive BMW’s. Ever since, I’ve been really ambivalent about giving money to beggars. I was so affected by that piece of hard-hitting journalism that I can no longer as much as drive by one of the many tousled, pee-soaked, cardboard sign-touting homeless guys that stand guard at our freeway exits without wondering if he isn’t in reality some flashy investment banker or the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. And though my faith in humanity has been crushed by Stone Phillips and his gang of sensationalistic underlings, I still want to help out where help is genuinely needed. So I’ve adopted a policy of still offering money to homeless individuals, but only to those homeless individuals that don’t ask.
So if you’re homeless and minding your own business in the shade of the decorative landscaping adjacent to Bashas’ or busily constructing a fort from discarded mattresses in a vacant lot, you can bet your shopping cart I’m going to offer a little help. I always feel really good about assuming the role of benefactor, however meagerly. And my beneficiary is often taken aback by the unsolicited financial donation and together we rejoice. Except for that one time that I, with a small wad of cash in my extended hand, approached a truly disheveled-looking fellow in the parking lot of Milano’s who turned out to be a painter walking home from a long day’s work and not a homeless transient. On that occasion, no one rejoiced. But one of us was angrily sworn at.
(I hope I never run into that guy. That would be really uncomfortable).
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1 comment:
When Kenny was in Russia he was mistaken for a needy man and offered money because he was so skinny.
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