04.09.08
...OF BLOOD
The nice weather in Richmond means two things: The trees are in bloom and the panhandlers have made their migratory return to the streets.
Case in point: there has been a slew of gutter punks lurking around the city asking for change while sitting around on strategically chosen street corners on the way to the cafeteria or from the Siegal Center. Every time I pass, a grubby, pierced face looks up at me, often from between curtains of stringy, unnaturally dyed and dredlocked hair and a raspy cigarette saturated voice asking "Got any change?" (lots of adjectives in that sentence, but that's what these people are: walking piles of adjectives)
At first I'd give my best sympathetic smile, shrug and say in a sincere sounding voice, "Sorry, I've got none on me" as if to imply had I change I'd be pouring it generously into their outstretched hands, fluttering dollar bills onto their persons, a benevolent Scrooge McDuck to their Hueys, Deweys, and Louies.
After a week or so of every day having to turn these people away my smile began to wear thin. Eventually, I dropped my amiable pretenses and settled for a gruff "Don't have any." as I briskly walked away.
Eventually even this gave way to me just moaning an anguished "I don't have ANY!" sounding as if I were flat broke, my child support hadn't been coming in, and rent was due in three days. I seriously sound as if I'm on the verge of tears and exhaustion now whenever I pass these people, a completely involuntary response.
I'm nervous though. The natural progression of events would have me in literal sobs in about a half week's time. And God no do I want to be crying on a grubby shoulder, especially when I've actually got twenty bucks in my wallet. SHH DON'T TELL THEM, THEY SMELL FUNNY AND HAVE SPIKES THROUGH THEIR NOSES
ratherbored at 15:31