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Can I have a $1
Don't you hate going to a corner/liquor/convenience store to be bugged by some bum needing only a "couple of bucks."
You immediately think "Why me?" like you're Nancy Carrigan.
They always, well usually, have the same story. Their car broke down. Their blah blah blah needs fixin.
And I don't know why, but it always seems they approach me. Maybe because they can see "Pushover" written on my forehead, but I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.
These are the times I wished I had earned my concealed handgun license.
I went to the liquor store on my way to my brother's house. I didn't exactly stop at the finest establishment in Wichita Falls to purchase liquor, but why should that really matter.
As my wife pulled up, I could immediately sense trouble.
I saw a guy walking towards the store as we approached. Before I got out of the car, I told my wife to lock the doors.
As soon as my foot hit the pavement, the dude comes up to me tell me some nonsense of it being his birthday and if I could buy him a beer or two.
At least he told me the truth.
Most of the time, the bums will ask you for money for something ridiculous - and all they really want is a different type of quick fix.
I gave the dude a dollar. I had a $20 and a single in my billfold and he sure as hell wasn't getting the $20.
I didn't really get to me, the fact of the matter was, a little less than one week before this event, it happened in front of Circle K...I mean Stripes.
I leave the store, and as soon as I start to put my keys into the door lock he starts telling me his sob story.
Boo Freakin' Hoo. Maybe I should start throwing quarters at these people and tell them to call someone who cares.
I don't think I'm not going to listen. I'm never really gonna know when someone will really need my help, but you can tell.
The bums will never have a desperate, pathetic look on their face; they usually have the pathetic look of someone who needs a job.
I've only asked a complete stranger for help like that once. I was in Cancun, I was 17, my buddy took off with my busfare back to the hotel. I was drunk, and I asked someone to help. He was American, thank god because I knew one spanish word.
And that is why I will never listening to someone's story. I'm skeptical, but I'll just know if they really need help.
Posted by Clayton Hein at 12:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
