Money can’t buy happiness.
This is something said by someone with too much money, or none at all.
I mean, have you BEEN to Vegas?
But, when money is continually tight, it tends to be what you think about a lot.
Case in point.
There is a rude homeless guy outside the Starbucks near my house.
And by rude, I mean ungrateful.
Begging for money is a fairly demeaning trade, as far as that goes.
I mean, there are definitely those that seem to have no choice but to be on the street.
Fine, lets take care of them.
But, there are those on the street because they have issues and refuse to follow the rules.
I do not view drug addiction as a disease you have no control over.
Its just really hard.
I figure that, as weak as I am, if I can walk away from my addictions, anyone else can.
Argue amongst yourselves, email me or comment and I will not be nice.
Anyway, back to Mr. Rude.
He is posted up outside the main door.
He’s been there for awhile, from the looks of it.
There are several cigarette butts on the ground at his feet.
I dislike smokers, and people who litter separately, but together, its even worse.
Now throw that on top of someone who pays no taxes and lives off of the generosity of others and you have my angry, annoyed attention.
Mr. Rude has his hand out to everyone going in and everyone coming out of Starbucks.
And he has a shitty comment when you don’t donate.
I have a soft spot for the homeless, this is well documented.
But, I am a big believer in being grateful for things.
Doesn’t matter who you are.
I mean, I am a total arrogant shit, but the list of who I am grateful to and for is huge.
“Got any change?”
This is the standard pitch, kind of a homeless default.
Unfortunately, if I am going to give someone money, I need to plan for it.
I use credit cards exclusively, for cash, I go to the ATM.
“Sorry, don’t have any.”
I went to open the door, when he hit me with this little zinger.
“Yeah, whatever. White cocksucker.”
When muttered under the breath, this is an awesome FU phrase.
I would normally be pissed, but it hit me in my “People are my playthings” mode.
The period of time before I get my coffee fix is often an anxious and giddy time.
So I got my coffee and took the table right at the window next to the door.
The see-through blinds were drawn, so I could see out, but I knew it was harder to see in.
And I watched.
This guy had this pissed off, FU, you owe me aura that seemed to surround him like he’s a piece of fruit in a bowl of shit-flavored jello.
And, as the fruit, he is frozen in place in the middle.
Over the course of the next half hour, I saw 2 people in all hand him change.
and about 40 people came in.
That is a pitiful return on time investment.
I have seen my favorite homeless guy, Garrett, get better than 50% of donations from passersby.
And he argues with himself non-stop.
But he does smile before and after the money hits the cup.
He even learned to say thank you in spanish because he wanted to thank people in their native tongue.
That is a man that gets it.
And, as I realize while looking at Mr. Rude and his underbreath shit-banter, that he will never get it.
Some people are not made for sales.
And that is just the way it is.