Geez, You try to help a guy . . .
Oh God.
Just about every morning I go to Einstein Bros Bagels to get a bagel and the elixir of the Gods commonly known as Diet Coke. I then stroll into Starbucks next door, sit down, eat and read.
Also just about every day I pass 1, sometimes 4 people asking me for money. I try to discern whether these people really need my help or are just attempting to get money for another purpose. I have no way of being sure. Admittedly I use a flawed system of simply looking at said person, euphemistically called “hobos” by my young daughters.
Again, this is a flawed method, but one of the hobos has a cell phone, thus she don’t rate in my mind. The others wear different clothes every day, are super clean and have shoes, good decent shoes. I know, I know, describing people that way is lazy and uninformed. I’m describing the regulars to contrast with the guy I call “The Einstein Man.” I call him that because he has wild grey hair reminiscent of Albert.
I see The Einstein Man every once in a while. He is completely and utterly filthy. He has no shoes, only rags tied around his feet. He talks to himself. He never asks for anything. The few times I’ve see him he’s invariably digging through trash cans looking for food. Man. That does rate in my book.
So, a few weeks ago I buy him a bagel, take it outside to where he was laying down and give it to him. He said, “Thanks.” I felt pretty decent.
Fast forward to this morning when it all came unraveled. I see him outside, so I buy a bagel and take it outside and set it on the table next to him. He looks at it sideways and says, “No Thanks.”, I said are you sure? He said “Yes.” Here is where I should have listened to him instead of thinking I knew what was best for him: I left the bag on the table and turned to walk away.
I was thinking that maybe if I left it there, he’d take it. He didn’t. He moved with surprising speed, picked it up with his left hand and angrily threw it onto the sidewalk a few steps down from where we were. He said something but I couldn’t make it out. I turned to go back to Einstein, embarrassed and a little mad, a little sad.
I’m at the elixir dispenser when I hear someone knocking on the window. I turn and see The Einstein Man giving me the finger and saying fun stuff like, “Fuck You, Fuck You” Now here’s my second chance to use my brain and again I failed, failed miserably. I started yelling back at him, giving him the finger. So, if you’re a person standing in line at Einstein and didn’t see all that went before it, ALL you see is me yelling at a homeless guy. Nice. Even if you did see the entire scene it doesn’t excuse my actions.
When I go outside he’s still sitting there and says to me, “Someone might hit you with a pipe.” Finally, I made the right move and said nothing. I sat down with some friends. He moved on and was standing near the Metro smoking a cigarette when last seen.
The whole episode was entirely my fault and I really feel bad for aggravating this guy. I was just trying to help.
Unfortunately, your good intentions got all messed up today, but bottom line, you had good intentions.
I’m proud of you for being able to share this story. I think many of us make the mistake of thinking that others see things the way we do but we probably can’t imagine the torturous thoughts which run through the Einstein man’s head. In some small way, he probably did feel your kindness – maybe that is what caused his reaction. Don’t give up trying to help. The next person might really need it.
You know some times you win some some times you lose some. I had a good hardy laugh from this post! I am sure it wasn’t so funny that day though:(
Rashida, You’re right it wasn’t funny then, now it’s better. I saw him yesterday eating some chips. I just decided that I’d leave him alone and walked by. He didn’t seem to recognize me which validates that he has it tough. I need to be on the lookout for prone teenagers eating bananas ;-)
thanks for the chuckle (the mental image of the two of you cursing between the glass was a funny) … and for reminding us through your experience that just because people are crazy and homeless doesn’t mean they don’t have “preferences”.
PS – a flawed system of caring is better than none … at least in my mind.
When I worked at homeless day shelter in DC I made and served breakfast or lunch. They were often rude and demanding. Then it dawned on me, it’s the only thing in their lives that they have some control over or the only decision they get to make in their day.
I’ve noticed similar traits in old people. The only thing they control is what they eat and how they eliminate it. I wish I could get my life down to just a couple of items without having to live under a viaduct.
Where are you?! I miss your posts! I hope all is well, I really like reading about parenting through a dad’s eye.
Rashida,
Thanks for checking in. We’re all fine, I’ve been consumed with eldest daughter’s foray into travel team softball. Been plenty of ups and downs in her first season. There is enough material there for it’s own blog. Putting up fresh stuff today. Got lots to write about. Thanks again!
Ed
What, you saw him eating chips and you didn’t offer him any Ranch or French onion dip? you puss!!! I should fly to MD and do what Erin said, ” Slap you all about”