Beggars ARE choosers. Apparently.
I live a fair distance from my uni, so for three days a week I need to catch a 50 minute train trip into the city to further my education.
Every now and then there are some people on the train who make you think you’re the token black guy of a teen slasher movie (the one that always dies while the main jock gets away). Some guys just look deadset scary or crazy. I specifically remember an incident last semester, when I was at Central after a late night class. A guy walked up and down the edge of the platform repeatedly yelling: “Who wants to play a game? It’s called ‘Life and Death.’” I did not want to play this game.
Today, I copped another beauty. Arriving home at my local station there was a guy standing at the bottom of the stairs with his hands out asking for money. He didn’t look like your typical homeless person, he was too clean and his clothes, while crappy, were still too nice to fit the homeless stereotype. He just looked like he was one of those really dodgy parents types who spend all their dole money on booze and pot. And he looked like a wife beater.
He also displayed a certain air of arrogance about him, considering he was essentially begging. He wasn’t asking nicely like those homeless guys outside the QVB, those guys are actually grateful when you give them anything. This guy in question was more like the cheap mate who asks you for “shrappers” at the bar because he doesn’t want to break his five dollar note.
I don’t normally give these types of people money, because I’m of the firm belief that the taxes I pay every year (due to my, y’know, job) should suffice in putting food on his table. These are the type I really don’t like. If he was legitimately homeless, suffers from leprosy and has been brushed aside by society, then yes I’ll help him out with a coin or a smoke. But this guy has a home to go back to, and probably once had a job he couldn’t be bothered turning up to.
However, I was compelled to give him the shrapnel in my pocket today because he was blocking a majority of the stairwell, and he also looked quite eccentric. I’m scared of people like him, in the same way I’m scared of those guys who squeegee your windscreen at the lights despite your protests. I’m always afraid that if I don’t give them money, they’ll kick my car or something. This guy was the same, he looked like he would fire up and rob you if you don’t give him anything.
So I handed him all the change in my pocket, which was a whopping 60c. He looked at it then called me cheap. I thought he was having laugh, but no he was serious.
Making sure I was out of punching range, I reminded him (fairly politely, considering the circumstance) that he was the one begging. He launched into a four letter tirade as I walked away, sharing a bewildered smile with the girl next to me. He doesn’t follow and I am physically unharmed.
But what the fuck is going on?! Since when did the economy get so strong that beggars can now choose what they’re given? When Jesus turned water into wine did the peasants take a sip, scrunch their noses and ask for the ‘83 Merlot instead? Australia must be the proverbial lucky country, if our standard of living is so high that beggars are actually mini-entrepreneurs. I wonder if that guy has a business account he uses to process all the cheques that everyone else (besides the cheap ass me) apparently gives him?
Please, show some respect. You’re begging, and I’m giving you money for free. If you’re going to be a bum, at least show some class.
