A crisis of conscience

a few years ago i read a piece about a panhandler, 30(ish), who lived in the downtown hilton and turned about three to four bills a day.

go downtown portland today and you'll see panhandlers, 18-25, with purebread rott, pit bull pups by their sides.

i don't know. even without shit like that, i never felt all that bad for the young guys.

 

I don't know about donating for the homeless.
Once, at a gas station, late at night, a bum feeds me a sob story about he and buddy being out of gas.
"Where's the car," I ask.
He tells me its in back of the station. They couldn't leave it at the pump.
"Let's see it," I said. Truth be told, If the guy and his buddy needed gas, I'd have bought them some.
We walk out of the lighted park lot around the back to the dark alley behind the store - then it begins to dawn on me, this may not be such a good idea.
Bum turns around and tells me he's lied. There is no car. No buddy. He just wants to some. Please.
I tell him I have no cash - I seldom carry cash since the invention of the check card.
I'm damn lucky I didn't get mugged.

We also had a bum come into the office claiming to know people here - through his father who the bum said was a longtime coach - and ask for $20 for gas. He hoodwinked the publisher into forking over $20.

I give, but not to homeless. I am believer in random acts of kindness.
I have paid for others' lunch - random folks (the aged, a vet, a nice-looking lady) - none of whom I know or meet.
Once in a while at a gas station, I'll spring for the kid in front of me's snack. If he's counting out change for a bag of potato chips, I'll tell the cashier I'll buy them.
I've paid for others in toll booths and bought some folks' grocery items at the store.
Disclaimer: I'm not rich, but I'm not poor either. I'm a regular middle-class guy who like every other working class schmoo is trying to get through the day to get home to the kids, the wife and the cold beer.
I don't it often - or with any regularity. It's random and unpredictable. Though, I usually end up doing when I'm having a bad day, cause it makes me feel better.
And I don't expect anything in return - not even a thank you.
And as has already been pointed out on this thread, I don't do it to benefit others - I do it for me.

 

I have a friend from high school who I've traveled with to Cleveland, Atlanta and Memphis in the past. In every city he was approached by someone claiming to be homeless.

Every time they'd ask for money, he says he'll be happy to give them a few bucks, but first "You have to sing me a song or dance a jig."

Surprisingly, no one was ever hungry enough to do it.

 

A friend of mine is retired and helps his local community service by driving people to doctor's appointments, hospitals etc.

One day he was waiting for someone outside Princess Margaret Hospital in downtown Toronto when a guy comes up and asks him if he can spare some cash for gas. Says he's out and left his wallet at home. So my buddy sees he's got a gas can and offers to take him to a gas station. He says, no I have some stuff to do at the hospital. So my buddy gives him $40 and the guy gives him a card and tells him to email his address and he'll pay him back.

So you can see where this going. My buddy initially thinks he's doing a good deed but eventually his emails come bouncing back and he soon realizes he's been had.

Fast forward a year and we're travelling to a game in Windsor, Ontario. We stop for gas and a bite to eat at one of those mega service centres along Hwy. 401. And doesn't he see the guy working the lot, giving the same sob story. He grabs his card off the visor, calls him over and asks if he can help. The guy goes into the storyu and my buddy cuts him off, calls him every name in the book and tells him he still owes him $40. He shoves the card in his face and says, "This is you isn't it, you fucking lying piece of shit?" The look on the guy's face indicated that yes, that was one of many aliases.

So the guy takes off with my buddy hollering for people in the parking lot to stay clear of the guy. Not a good day at the office for the crook, that's for sure.

 

Your friend is a jerk.

 

I wonder if your friend ever asked white homeless folks to dance a jig.

 

Yeah, this is the attitude I just don't understand.

I hope your friend ends up homeless, just for a few months.

 

Ms. Slappy and I were in Bubbler's PAradise the other day when a poorly dressed but polite guy in his mid-20s starts hitting us up for gas money. He points to a truck with three other guys in it in the middle of the parking lot and said they were on their way to a town 40 miles away and they ran out of gas and no one had any money.
Ms. Slappy had a buck and asked if she should give it to them. If it makes you feel good, do it, says I.. So as we drove past, i rolled down the window and gave it to him. Legit and sincere thank yous. Why the other guys weren't working the lot, I have no idea.

 

I was at nationals with my team in atlanta (I coach volleyball) and me and the parents went to the store to buy snacks and things for the players last month, I got done shopping first and was waiting outside when a man approached and asked for money for food. I was on a pretty tight budget and didn't want to give him any money (I do give money to people occassionally - I always give money to street musicians, but I guess that's not the same). So I gave the guy a banana. He seemed pretty appreciative, he ate it right there.

There seemed to be a lot of homeless around atlanta, worse than most of the cities they hold nationals in (they move around every year), but I think some of the other cities make an effort to clear the area when the tournament comes to town. I don't think atlanta did.

By the way, I got a chance to walk through the olympic park, site of the bombing in 1996. Most of the kids on my team didn't even know it had happened.

 

Guy and I don't agree on much, but we are in agreement that your friend is an asshole.

 

I'm going with racist asshole for now.

 

You're not a bad person. By any stretch of the imagination. And honey, this is classic depressive thinking.