This little story started out in an email reply to my friend Bryan, before I decided I had written enough to make a blog post of it. I don’t know if I’m going to start posting here again or not, but <shrug>
The conventional thinking in the city is that you shouldn’t give homeless people money, because they’ll just buy booze or drugs with it. But you can’t even give people food anymore, because some asshole sociopath in NYC was going around poisoning homeless people and all the bums hear horror stories about it. You just have to vote for homeless shelter funding whenever you get the chance and hope for the best.
I have given money to a homeless person once since moving to the city, and it was earlier this year. I see a lot of bums on the way home from the train station, but this guy was new. He was sitting on the ground at a busy intersection, with a sign that said, “Travelling. Need supplies.” They never just ask for money anymore, because people ignore them–they need to find an angle. This guy, in particular, completely ignored me. His attentions were completely occupied by a dog that sat on his lap. It was some kind of brindle thing, maybe a pit. It seemed like regardless of his dire straits, he was happy just to have his friend there with him. I thought of all of the entitled suburbanites who left their foreclosed McMansions, their family companions still chained in the back yard, and of our little brindle girl Ruby. I walked on, but the images stayed with me, so I turned left instead of right at the next intersection, hit an ATM, and withdrew $40. I walked back with a weird mixture of elation and transgression. “I don’t know where you and your friend are going,” I told him, as I handed him the folded twenties–our eyes carefully averted, as they always must be–”but I hope this helps get you there together.”
So was I a savior or a sucker? I never saw him again. Maybe I picked well, and he didn’t turn that $40 into Mad Dog or black tar. I like to think so.

There’s a few homeless folks around my apartment. This is gonna sound a bit elitist, but a lot of times you can just get a good vibe off someone, just as well as you can get bad vibes. I know which guys are just down on their luck around here, and I’ve actually had conversations with a few of them.
I’m generally a fan of ‘go with what your gut’ tells ya. It’s generally right about these things. So if your gut told you to make an exception for this one guy, I’m sure there were a lot of unconscious or subliminal things you were picking up that told you to go for it.
A thoughtful and thought-provoking post. And a good example of why I miss reading blogs and dislike FB.
There’s no formula for dealing with the homeless, especially in this “reset” economy. No doubt many squander their earnings. But don’t we all? The conventional wisdom probably applies generally – walk on by. But exceptions are an important aspect of any wisdom. Yep, go with your gut.
What a good man you are.
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+1