The Meek, Earth yet to be inherited, hit me up for spare change.

Now that I live in the city I interact with more poor people. Typically our interaction is brief, and ends with me either giving them a dollar or telling them that I am “strapped.” The homeless person then, depending on the circumstances, either asks for God to bless me, or rolls their eyes and acts huffy. The homeless can be surprisingly unsympathetic to the financial troubles of others.

The Panhandlers and Their Techniques, Reviews for December 2005-January 2006


12/28/05— A man approached me on my way home from a bar with the line “Hey, Big Man.” Still distraught over the four XXXL sweaters my Grandmother gave me three days prior, I ignored him. * 1/2

12/31/05— About 2 am on W Grace Street a man asked for “a piece” of a young lady I was walking home. No attempt was made at response. *

1/11/06— On my way to a bar I was approached by a man who told me the story of how he had just arrived in town, was lost, and had three hungry children in a car around the block. Could I help him get them some food? Wanting to believe his story, I gave him $2. ***

1/13/06— On my way to a work party I was approached by a man who told me the story of how his brother had been thrown in jail on “some bullshit,” and he had been left responsible for three hungry nieces and nephews, who were in a car around the block. Could I help him get them some food? Put off by his lack of creativity, I said that I was broke. **

1/22/06— On my way home from a friend’s apartment I was approached by a man who offered the line, “Brother, I’m homeless as a bitch. Help me get a drink?” I gave him $5. ****