Thursday – Random Acts
Aug. 28th, 2008 11:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
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Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about yesterday's drive home from work. I've been depressed and exhausted the past two weeks, not to mention overwhelmed and burned out, but I saw two acts of charity on my drive home yesterday that refreshed my soul.
Of course, for something like this to have this kind of spiritual effect, it helps to have a soul that is slightly on the warped side to begin with.
I was sitting at a stoplight to turn under an overpass in a seedy part of town, taking a look at the urban misfits that occupied said intersection. There was a flower salesman, with his white paint bucket full of water and small bouquets of roses wrapped in cellophane. It's always a dingy tattooed man with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and it never seems to be the same guy two days in a row. Then there were two, rather than the usual one, squeegee men, weaving in and out of the cars at the red light, offering to clean your windshield for whatever small change you were willing to spare.
I always shake my head no to discourage them from squirting my windshield with their spray bottles. Jeff, on the other hand, lets them clean his windshield, then rolls down his window, says, "Thank you," and rolls it back up again. I'm afraid my husband is a bit of a jerk sometimes. "I didn't ask them to clean my windshield, why should I pay them for doing it?" he says, "I say 'thanks,' and that's all I owe them." He resents them for stealing the squeegees from gas stations, so there is never one when he wants one to clean his own windshield for free. For this reason, he feels they owe him a free windshield cleaning.
The last guy on the corner was a beggar, wearing a big floppy straw hat that looked like it's previous owner was probably an old lady who used it to keep the sun off her neck while she did her gardening. He carried a hand-written sign that said, "I NEED A BEER" in large letters and then "Why should I lie?" in smaller letters beneath it.
A large white pickup truck pulling a flatbed trailer was in the lane next to me, one car space ahead. One of the squeegee men started to walk past it, then backed up, made eye contact with the driver inside through the dark tinted glass, nodded, and began to clean the truck's windshield with gusto. As he finished, the window of the truck rolled down a few inches, and a hand passed a cigarette to the grateful glass cleaner, who stuck it behind his ear and moved back to the sidewalk in anticipation of the light changing and a new crop of potential clients moving forward.
A few seconds later, the beggar with the beer sign walked next to the same truck, and again the window lowered. This time the driver passed an unopened tallboy can of beer out to the hands of the beggar, who accepted it with a dignified nod of thanks, though not a smile. I have heard of people who have offered food – sandwiches or fruit – to the guys holding the "will work for food" signs, and they always reported that those beggars get angry and demand cash. I guess the beer beggars feel differently.
The cigarette made me grin, but the beer made me laugh out loud. When the light changed and I resumed my journey toward home, my faith in the basic goodness of humanity was oddly restored.
To be sure, the fabric of society has some dingy, worn threads in its makeup. A piece of fabric that large is always going to have a few dirty spots that won't come clean, and all the social programs and charities in the world can't change this. God bless these threadbare spots in the social fabric, and preferably bless them with free beer and cigarettes, or whatever change you can spare.
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.
.
Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about yesterday's drive home from work. I've been depressed and exhausted the past two weeks, not to mention overwhelmed and burned out, but I saw two acts of charity on my drive home yesterday that refreshed my soul.
Of course, for something like this to have this kind of spiritual effect, it helps to have a soul that is slightly on the warped side to begin with.
I was sitting at a stoplight to turn under an overpass in a seedy part of town, taking a look at the urban misfits that occupied said intersection. There was a flower salesman, with his white paint bucket full of water and small bouquets of roses wrapped in cellophane. It's always a dingy tattooed man with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and it never seems to be the same guy two days in a row. Then there were two, rather than the usual one, squeegee men, weaving in and out of the cars at the red light, offering to clean your windshield for whatever small change you were willing to spare.
I always shake my head no to discourage them from squirting my windshield with their spray bottles. Jeff, on the other hand, lets them clean his windshield, then rolls down his window, says, "Thank you," and rolls it back up again. I'm afraid my husband is a bit of a jerk sometimes. "I didn't ask them to clean my windshield, why should I pay them for doing it?" he says, "I say 'thanks,' and that's all I owe them." He resents them for stealing the squeegees from gas stations, so there is never one when he wants one to clean his own windshield for free. For this reason, he feels they owe him a free windshield cleaning.
The last guy on the corner was a beggar, wearing a big floppy straw hat that looked like it's previous owner was probably an old lady who used it to keep the sun off her neck while she did her gardening. He carried a hand-written sign that said, "I NEED A BEER" in large letters and then "Why should I lie?" in smaller letters beneath it.
A large white pickup truck pulling a flatbed trailer was in the lane next to me, one car space ahead. One of the squeegee men started to walk past it, then backed up, made eye contact with the driver inside through the dark tinted glass, nodded, and began to clean the truck's windshield with gusto. As he finished, the window of the truck rolled down a few inches, and a hand passed a cigarette to the grateful glass cleaner, who stuck it behind his ear and moved back to the sidewalk in anticipation of the light changing and a new crop of potential clients moving forward.
A few seconds later, the beggar with the beer sign walked next to the same truck, and again the window lowered. This time the driver passed an unopened tallboy can of beer out to the hands of the beggar, who accepted it with a dignified nod of thanks, though not a smile. I have heard of people who have offered food – sandwiches or fruit – to the guys holding the "will work for food" signs, and they always reported that those beggars get angry and demand cash. I guess the beer beggars feel differently.
The cigarette made me grin, but the beer made me laugh out loud. When the light changed and I resumed my journey toward home, my faith in the basic goodness of humanity was oddly restored.
To be sure, the fabric of society has some dingy, worn threads in its makeup. A piece of fabric that large is always going to have a few dirty spots that won't come clean, and all the social programs and charities in the world can't change this. God bless these threadbare spots in the social fabric, and preferably bless them with free beer and cigarettes, or whatever change you can spare.
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no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 04:30 pm (UTC)Well sometimes when I spot a homeless person begging. And I have a pocketfull of change and he begs for money. I give him the exact amount (with tax) nessasary to buy the cheapest 40 oz beer. Or (if I am flush) a bottle of the cheapest high octane wine. (At the convienience store closest to where they are panhandling)
Probably doesn't do their health any good (although hard core late stage alcoholics can actually perish from delirium tremens..so maybe I AM helping).
I just do it for that instant flash of recognition on their faces for seeing a kindred spirit.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 04:53 pm (UTC)The moment made me smile. The guy in the truck (you could tell it was his work truck) is a businessman, of the blue-collar variety. The guy with the squeegee is also a businessman, of the no-collar variety. The guy with the sign is tragedy with a dark sense of humor, who even the squeegee men could look down on. That he got what he wanted (or at least what his sign he wanted) was both poignant and funny to me.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 05:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-29 05:12 pm (UTC)I did like the story. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 04:49 pm (UTC)I like the guy who gave a cigarette and beer. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-08-29 05:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 05:35 pm (UTC)I'll be damned. It never occurred to me why they practically bolt the squeegees to the gas pump at some stations. Naturally, I park just far enough away so that the "tether" prevents me from cleaning the whole windshield.
A great mystery has been solved for me.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-29 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 07:05 pm (UTC)Sad that the food beggars get angry when FOOD is given to them. Maybe honesty is the best policy? ;P
Something is better than nothing, eh?
no subject
Date: 2008-08-29 05:06 pm (UTC)I agree, if one would rather drink than eat, they should say so on their filthy, hand-written sign. Otherwise, they must accept a 6" Subway Sandwich and a bag of chips with grace, so long as it doesn't have a bite taken out of it (even beggars get to have standards on that account).
Beggars and Food
Date: 2008-09-01 09:10 pm (UTC)But I heard a story one time (granted, the source is dubious) about one beggar who got on a METRO bus after his day was over (like it was shift work or something) and then got picked up at a corner by a woman in a late-model Cadillac. So I am thinking not all of them are as needy as they claim.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-29 05:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-29 05:09 pm (UTC)Clean, well-dressed beggars? I like my bums to look like bums, damnit. If you are clean and well dressed, then get a job! If you are going to beg, I think you have a moral obligation to look like one of the reasons you can't get a job is because you don't have any good interview clothes.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-29 06:43 pm (UTC)