On the Street

As I was walking home from the mall today, shopping bags draped from my arm and the word “sucker” apparently tattooed on my forehead, an older gentleman stopped me to ask a question. Let me briefly describe the scene:

It’s windy and dreary outside, the lingering effects of the Nor’easter that swept through the area over the past two days. The man is holding  a styrofoam plate in one hand, on top of which are three bare chicken bones and a piece of white bread, and beneath which are two boxes of Krispy Kreme chocolate glazed donuts. In the other hand, which happens to be speckled with pieces of chicken fat, he is holding a drumstick and is intermittently nibbling it as he asks his question.

But before getting to the question, which is obvious before the asking, he explains that he’s homeless and hungry and this recent storm has felt like another Hurricane Katrina. I knew he was throwing that last bit in for good measure, and I’m not unappreciative of such things. To show my compassion, I opened my wallet and dumped in his hand every last penny I had, which probably totaled about 78 cents.  Then I kicked him in the shins and ran off with his Krispy Kreme donuts because I’m fucking hungry too.