In Florida our homeless people seem to have some sort of union or something. They have matching uniforms and are up - at the crack of dawn - asking for donations on my street corner as I'm unsuccessfully trying to hustle my kids to school on time. And it's always the same guy which leaves me to wonder, "If you can get your shit together enough to show up here everyday asking for money, why don't you just...oh, I don't know...get a job or something??"
My guy, I call him Hud (stands for homeless unkempt dude), is not tall enough. This is basically a nicer way of saying that he's fat. But Hud is totally FAT!! I keep wondering just exactly how needy IS this guy when he can afford to eat an extra thousand calories a day?!
Every morning he greets me in the same fashion - he puts a sad little frown on his crinkly face and holds his hand up with his thumb and index finger almost touching as if to say, "Sadly, my shrinky dink is only this big...that's what fucked up my life and got me all begging on your corner and stuff."
But in reality I would imagine that he's just suggesting that I give him a little bit. (Just the tip. Just for a minute. Just to see what it feels like.) I always smile and then shake my head to imply, "Not in this fucking lifetime, Fatty. Try the car behind me. They look like the type who would love to sponsor an aging drugged out homeless union beggar dude."
Yet I see people giving him money all of the time. I suppose that's why he does it. He probably makes more than the President.
There is another corner nearby where I saw two uniformed homeless people on an apparent Smoking and Cell Phone Break. They were literally hiding in the bushes so I guess those two activities are either bad for business or verboten when you're in the homeless dude union. Unions can be a bitch, you know? Unlike me. I'm never a bitch. Well...almost never.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I recall 60 minutes doing some kind of "expose" about the homeless..
There was one example of a husband and wife who would dress shabbily, keep themselves groomed poorly, and go out to panhandle for cash.
When the day was done, they'd walk 13 miles to the park and ride where they'd climb into their Mercedez, count the cash they'd made, and drive home to their $300,000 ranch-style home in the country.
Yeah, I know it's the extreme, but I've seen too many of these "poor" people out there preferring to have us pay for their lifestyle rather than earn it themselves...
I like the ones who say "Will Work for Food." I've actually tried to get one to come do yard work - not interested. Then I tried giving some (packaged) food to a couple - nope, just want the cash. Next, I'm thinking of chunking a can of vienna sausages as I drive by...
Jormengrund - I've heard about that. Fuckers.
KC - I think you are onto something. Kind of a "drive-by composting" kind of deal. Nice! I threw out some rancid roasted peppers earlier today. They would have made an excellent projectile. Well...they would have been clumsy to throw. But the "splat!" would have been VERY satisfying.
Post a Comment