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Column # 142 Was it
a Scam? |
| Cool-guy is looking for the homeless guy he helped once. When he finds him he may not like what he sees. How will it change his giving ways? |
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“Is this my homeless man?” Cool-guy asked, peering under the blanket of the man sleeping on the street. Ok. That wasn’t cool. “Leave him alone.” I whined. “My god. Let the sleeping man rest!” “I was checking to see if he was mine. Nope. Not him.” “Um. Yours?” “Yeah. A few years ago when I was here in San Francisco I bought lunch for this homeless guy.” “Really?” I smiled. Hey. Girls like stories about their boys treating the homeless well. “Yeah. He was standing on the street begging. Seems that someone had stolen his accordion. That’s how he made money. Entertaining. It was really sad. I wouldn’t give him money, but said that I would buy him lunch.” “Honey.” I said, taking his hand. “That’s very sweet.” “That’s what I thought. So. I took him into this sandwich shop to sit with him and buy him some food, and they were really rude to him there.” “Why?” “I don’t know. They wouldn’t serve him. Threw us out. Called him a scammer.” “Why would they call a poor homeless guy a scammer? Are they mean to the homeless in San Francisco?” “Don’t know. So I took him down to another place and bought him two sandwiches and a cup of coffee and a coke. He ate so fast.” “He must have been really hungry.” “He was. Really hungry.” “What a cool thing that was to do, honey.” I said, kissing his cheek. “I wonder if I’ll see him again.” Cool-guy said. “Maybe he’s off the streets. Maybe he got his act together.” “Wouldn’t that be great? If he wasn’t on the streets any longer?” Cool-guy stopped walking. I tugged at his arm. He didn’t budge. I turned to see what he was looking at. There was a blind man standing on sidewalk holding a cardboard box. People were throwing money into it.” “OH. MY. GOD.” “What?” “That’s my guy. Right there. On the corner. He’s pretending to be blind.” “No way. That’s him?” I asked. There was a ragged man swaying back and forth while he hummed lightly and whispered ‘thanks’ to anyone who dropped money into his box. No. I didn’t start laughing because the man was still homeless. I was laughing at cool-guy’s expression. He was standing in front of the homeless man with his hands on his hips. He moved closer to him, staring into his face in complete and total disbelief. I started giggling and couldn’t stop. The homeless guy opened his eyes all the way and said to Cool-guy, “Hey man. I’m still searching for my accordion.” Cool-guy’s mouth dropped open. The shock glued my boyfriend to that spot. My laughing wasn’t helping the situation. I had to pull him away from the scammer and force him to cross the street. Space seemed like a good idea right about then. “He was pretending to be blind.” “I know.” I giggled. “He’s not blind.” “I know.” I laughed. “He REMEMBERED me. From a few years ago.” “He really did.” I laughed. “How could he remember me? So many people walk by him.” I took a deep breath. “Don’t know.” I said. “That’s unbelievable.” He said. “How could I ever give money to a homeless person again?” “Ok. Look.” I said, trying to lose the humor of the situation. “You already donate time and money to homeless shelters. You cook dinner on the holidays. You get food donations for them. Maybe that’s enough?” We walked quietly as Cool-guy tried to figure out the complexities of a homeless man who was a scammer. We passed by an older homeless woman who was holding out a small paper bag for money She had a thin, dirty dress that fell just below her knees. Her bare legs and feet were battered and bruised. Without a second thought, Cool-guy pulled five dollars out of his pocket and dropped it into her bag. “Thanks.” She gummed though a mouth with no teeth. He nodded at her. “Enjoy it. Have a great day.” I smiled. Here was a man who could never really be scammed. He shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t help it. I’m weak. I’ll always give. Some will need it. Some won’t. I can’t tell. So. I’ll give when it feels right.” “What about the scammers out there?” “That’s not my problem. I give. The rest will have to sort itself out.” I know. Givers can’t be scammed.
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