Picky Panhandlers

I had really good weekend. It was full of adventures and friends. I’ll probably touch on that tomorrow or later in the week. I’m pretty sure I had enough experiences this weekend to fill up the whole week with blogs, but one thing in particular happened this weekend, today actually, that caused me quite a bit of amusement.

I met my friend Samantha for brunch. We pretty much hung out all weekend but prior to that, we hadn’t seen each other in a while. Probably since before I went to Florida. So we decided to do breakfast and catch up on what’s been happening. It just now dawned on me that I did most of the talking…. sorry, Sam.

So we go to my favorite spot, The Tomato Head. We eat and catch up. I order a waffle to go for my kid. We leave and head back to the parking garage. If you’ve never been to market square, there are a lot of homeless people down there at times. If you have been to Market Square, you know that most of them are permanent fixtures. I make it a point to get to know them. I like to find out their names and get a little bit of their back story and when I can, I’ll either help them out with some cash or some food. I usually always give my leftovers to them and I’m very careful to not eat off of the parts that I know I’m going to give away. I feel like it takes some of their dignity to be handed a half eaten anything, so I usually cut it in half and arrange it in the container the way it would look if it was just ordered. It’s just my thing. I’ve been hungry before and it sucks. So I just always try to look out for people.

I’m not telling you this for any sort of applause. It’s preface to what happened. So Samantha and I leave the restaurant. I’m carrying my son’s waffle in one of those foil containers with the cardboard lid that you get your Mexican food in usually. I start to walk past a new homeless guy on the square. He asks me if what I’m holding is leftovers. I told him no, it’s a waffle that I got for my kid so he knows I love him even thought I ditched him and went to brunch without him. So then I say, “do you want it?” because I had food at home he could eat. He would totally live without a waffle. So the dude tells me, no. He thought it was Mexican. He doesn’t want a waffle. So I offered him a hug, because that’s what I do. And he was like, “no, I have scabies.” then I’m like, well, here, have some money. And he’s like, “I don’t use money.” So I was super confused and baffled. I’ve never really wanted to say to a homeless person, “well, fuck you, then.  I was trying to be nice.” But today, I really wanted to. I didn’t, because I’m not an asshole, but seriously, I’ve never seen a picky panhandler. I guess it really does take all kinds. Nevertheless, I didn’t get his name and if I see him again, I will politely walk by, next time eating my Mexican carryout.


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