Wednesday, October 26, 2005
I'm a NoBo
I have no problem with hobos. They can ho and bo all over the place. I know they won’t get a job. I know most of them don’t want one. I know that shelters can be dangerous places. That doesn’t stop me from giving money to the shelters every holiday so they can eat, and it doesn’t stop me from having packs of string cheese in my car that I give them so they have a nutritious snack. Heck, I used to give them gloves from my landscape company when I used to plow snow (I had a box of new gloves on hand for the miscellaneous Hispanic workers when we used to plow – they didn’t have gloves either). So what is it about crack that turns your everyday aimless hobo into a Freakbo?
I know most homeless are mentally unstable. I know most of them are alcoholics (not all, of course, but a lot). I also know that most homeless people just want to be acknowledged. I was hanging out with Nick (who knew quite a few hobos) when a group of them were telling me that even a smile to acknowledge their existence was better than completely ignoring them. So that’s what I do now. Try it out. They won’t bite. And you just have to tell them you don’t have any change, and they’ll move on. But they’ll appreciate you realize that they are human beings – ya know?
So hemingway, I went to Little Caesar’s to buy a pizza for $5 today. Josh and I had just gotten out of my work truck, when a hobo yelled across the parking lot, “EXCUSE ME!” and I turned around (after hesitation of course). He wanted to know what my company was, when right on the side of the truck it said, “Landscape and Irrigation Professionals”.
“Oh,” he said.
So Josh and I went into the pizza place and came back out only to find that hobo not only waiting for us, but crazy. He asked for change, a COUPLE dollars, or a piece of pizza. Well, I just bought that darn pizza, and let’s just say I didn’t feel like sharing.
Yeah, yeah. Boo on me.
So I remember the .50 I had in my pocket for the soda machine later, and gave it to him.
Still not satisfied, he continued to pester us after already giving him 2 quarters; Josh repeatedly told him he didn’t have any money (and trust me, Josh gives more money to more hobos than I ever would). The guy almost freaked. Please take note: he didn’t ask for spare change. He demanded 2 whole dollars and a slice of pizza! Finally, I shoved the pizza into Josh’s hands and opened his passenger side door and said, “We’re leaving. Have a nice day.”
“Well you too” said the Freakbo all snottily.
Okay. So I didn’t give him a piece of pizza. Sue me. I just didn’t feel that generous with a pushy cracked out freakbo. Seriously. If the hobo was nice, and wasn’t friggin’ crazy in my face, asking me if I owned my company, I might’ve felt like giving him some pizza instead of .50.
I’ll just be the jerk in this story and politely decline after I just dished out some change that wasn’t good enough.
I know, I know. Not everyone is like that. But I’ve realized it’s almost better to try and ignore the Freakbos on crack than to try and be civil to them.
Seriously. He was on SOMETHING. I only wish it was booze!!!