Pushy, Pushy

Living in a major metropolitan area on the edge of residential neighborhood and an entertainment district, it's not uncommon to encounter people who live on the streets. Usually they're gracious and friendly--a pleasure to enounter. This afternoon, however, a fellow stepped over the line.

I was walking over to the grocery to pick up an Orange Soda, drink of choice on Mount Olympus, when I nearly bumped into a straggly but lively fellow. He said something incomprehensible through his thick Jamacian accent and, assuming he was asking for change or a cigarette, I replied to the effect that I don't have anything for him. I always carry money in my wallet, but I never give cash to beggars on the street for two reasons. First, because they'll be able to see all the money in my wallet. Second, because to me change == coins. I didn't have any coinage, so I was being truthful in my changelessness. As I walked away from him and into the store, he said something about my having change when I come back out of the store [-ed. this wasn't a menacing phrase, as I'm sure it comes across as such as I type this].

This struck me as odd and annoyed me slightly, but I brushed it off. I purchased my divine libation, Orange Soda, for $0.95, leaving me with only a nickel in change. However, as the guy outside of the store was being pushy I decided to leave in the opposite direction in which I came so I could duck back home through the laundromat and avoid him altogether.

"Hey!"

Great, he didn't get the hint. Next thing I know he's back on me asking for change. I reached in my pocket for the nickel, but made sure to express my displeasure with a sigh (one that required no coaxing) so that maybe I could convey the idea that being pushy and unlikeable, especially when you're homeless, isn't good business practice. I handed him the silver while emphatically stating that this was the only change I had.

Evidently that wasn't good enough.

"Aw man, come on! I'm having a rough time--I just got out of prison! [-ed. 'ding ding ding']. At least you could give me a dollar [-ed. 'foul! red flag!'] or something!"

Words don't do justice to how he delivered this phrase.

Now, I'm perfectly aware that these people are down on their luck, even though I'm sure life decisions, rather than luck, has had much to do with it. However, the insinuation that I, a working college student especially, owe him anything was very irritating to say the least. Compound that with requesting a certain dollar amount, and it was just too much.

I'm not proud of it, but I told off the homeless guy. It wasn't even purposeful--it was more of a knee-jerk reaction. My voice raised from my usual 3 to a 7 and I became visibly puffed up like some sort of male toad looking for a mate. I made it perfectly clear to him in no uncertain terms that what I gave him was the extent of my change and that I have no cash to give him.

Furrow eyebrows. Turn Around. Exeunt. Shake head and give incredulous face to passerby. Recieve knowing nod from passerby. Duck through laundromat.

If you've read this far, the only purpose of this post was to vent. No deep observation to be found--just venting. So, to make up for this venting post, I give you a picture of the cutest kitty kit in the entiiiiiire world.

The End?