At times, I am entirely too nice. I am not speaking of the time I gave the stranger rolling her daughter in a wheel chair near the medical pavilion a ride; or the time I assisted a little, old, Filipino lady traveling alone in putting on her shoes in front of Security as we stood at the end of the conveyor belt; or even the time I returned the cell phone I found on the beach in Santa Monica, and the grateful owner said, “Who are you? No one does this.” I am specifically speaking of the time, or times, I have given the homeless man at the grocery store a dollar or two. Upon information and belief (which always means exactly what you think it means) said homeless man, who may or may not be without a home, has been known to make frequent purchases from the local, unlicensed, pharmaceutical salesman and pays for the aforementioned transactions in all ones. You heard me. The homeless man is buying weed with my money! Marijuana. Pot. Mary Jane. Glaucoma green. The Reggae plant. The Magic Dragon. Chronic. WEED! Hot-diggity damn! This takes 420 friendly to a whole new level. It’s a good thing for him I hadn’t received this tidbit of knowledge when I saw him on the spaghetti aisle last week. He had the nerve to throw me a three-toothed smile and say, “We shouldn’t keep meeting like this…” As if it were a secret rendezvous between us two! I laughed nervously and replied, “No, we should not.”
It is my regular practice to purchase FOOD for those who beg outside the grocery store. In this case, I made an exception and tossed him a buck or two. Oh! So, now there’s judgment? So, now you want to add ‘gullible’ to the list that begins with ‘too nice’ right? Newsflash, not all people who beg for money are scam artists and not all of them have a drug habit to support. It is highly possible you have chosen that particular psychology to keep you guilt free… or to keep you from parting with your spare change… but the truth is… you are a miser and you care more about the leather interior in your car than you do about the common man. :::Ya damn right!::: (I heard you.) I won’t let you off the hook just because at times I happen to be entirely too nice. The world needs more people like me… to build chicken coops in impoverished communities of third world countries. Well… no… I haven’t built any chicken coops lately. But, that’s beside the point. I have a friend who took a whole troop of upper class, young adults on an experiential learning trip to Tanzania and they did! The world needs more people like US! If only to balance it out… if only to even the odds… Yes, I volunteer my time. Yes, I give my spare change. I’m not rich. Many would argue that I could be rich if I did not give so much away. I argue that I am rich beyond measure because I do. Maybe I was moved because he was always so grateful. The homeless, not-so-homeless, buzz-seeker that is. Who knows? I can’t be too angry. I mean, he’s got problems I’ve never seen. Next time I see him I’ll muster up my best Ice Cube impression and yell, “Yo, Smokey!!!” Then ask, “Have you eaten today? You want a sandwich?” That’s right. I won’t stop being me and chances are he won’t stop being him. I can help a brother who’s hungry without funding his habit. Until I get around to building a chicken coop, that’s the least I can do.
Persnickety Self-Adjustment: Things are hardly ever what they seem to be. That doesn’t mean I should stop being me.