08.03.00

I'm torn between pity and anger, the desire to help and the realization that I won't really make a difference, the obligation to help a fellow human and the human urge to be selfish.

Of course, that last comparison makes what I'm about to say seem really crass and all, but screw it. I'm not a nice person.

I'm totally sick of beggars and panhandlers. It's to the point where I'm about to stop apologizing for having a job I don't like, and an overpriced apartment to keep my stuff in. Usually, I just murmur "sorry," and go on with my life, feeling bad for these people who are merely asking for some spare change, that I've maybe been carting about for three weeks.

It's not that they're asking for money.

Well, actually, it is. They're asking for something that means two things to me. Money means food, entertainment, the means to pay my debts, security, stuff I haven't bought yet, and a place to live to me. It also represents my sweat, effort, time, tears, frustration, and annoyance, because I've worked my butt on (as opposed to off.. if I didn't sit all day, it might go away) for it.

So what they're asking for is something rife with meaning. But at the same time, I don't really care for money. It's just a means to an end.

But today, with holes in my shoes (because they're really comfy Enzo flats with leather soles that have gotten walked down, and there are no shoe-repair places on my way to or from work I can drop them off at), an awful lunch from McDonalds (because the good deli closed, and the only other sandwich place charges $7 for a decent sandwich), and a headache, two of these guys asked.

I delibrately avoid some places because I know I'll get panhandled, but one was around the corner from work (unavoidable), and the other in front of the train station (also unavoidable).

Now, if I really wanted to, I could dig out a couple of bucks worth of quarters. I've got them. The damn things just accumulate, and I eventually get sick of carrying them around, and spend them. But then I'd feel I had to give to everyone that asked.

Am I just a hard-hearted bitch? Probably. And yes, I really do care. The system has seriously failed these people. It would be nice if the politicians would actually DO something about things like this, instead of trying to run everyone else's lives, cram their morality down people's throats, and give their rich buddies tax cuts, when that money could be used to help these people.

However, there is always a way out. There are always choices. Perhaps someone made a bad choice. Or couldn't get past their pride or something at a crucial moment. I could wind up in that position. You could. (We should be so lucky and have it happen to Gov. Bush.)

Maybe I was just delt a good hand; I have a good education, better than average smarts, and good friends. But if I was alone, I couldn't live here. I don't make nearly enough money. Maybe these people should think about moving to a less over-priced area? Any place where sandwiches cost $7, and they're trying to live on scraps just doesn't make economical sense.

Of course, most of them got where they are by not displaying much financial wizardry, I'll guess.