Brother Can You Spare A Dime

Thursday, February 9, 2012

There are an abundance of homeless people in the nation’s capital.  And the area in and around the white house could have the most in the city.  They’re everywhere.  Jessie’s at 14th & G talking to himself until he sees someone who has given him money before.  “Hey how you doin’?” as he makes a mad dash towards the person.  The “Groper” walks the street silently with his mouth open and his hand out waist high, squeezing his hand as if it had a roll of Charmin in it.  And who could forget the guy in the wheelchair wearing the boxing headgear or the lady in front of Au Bon Pain with multiple carts of stuff.  She’s got more stuff than I had in my first apartment.  They’re all over the place, in all shapes, shades, and sizes.

My co-worker calls me mean because I never give anything to these folks.  I’m charitable otherwise, but I think panhandling is a racket.  I did throw a dollar into the case of a 10-year old playing “Donna Lee” on the corner of 12th & G one day.  Kids playing Charlie Parker deserve encouragement.  But I’ve seen too many homeless people guzzling your donations from a paper covered bottle an hour after you give.  However today, I went into my pocket.

Picture me walking north on 14th St. NW; and I’m moving pretty fast because it’s a little chilly out.  All of a sudden, a black man, 30’s, scruffy, 5’10, knit hat, olive green coat... you get the picture.  He runs up and starts walking with me stride for stride.  He’s marking me and I’m planning how I can shoot him without taking out any innocent bystanders (if it goes bad).  Suddenly he speaks and the conversation goes something like this:

Him: How do you get a drunk on the roof?

Me: (Shrugging)

Him: Tell him drinks are on the house.

Me: (Still walking)

Him: What did the fish say when he swam into a wall

Me: Dam!

Him: Oh, you know that one.  What did one house say to the other house....

This continues for two blocks until traffic keeps me from crossing the street.  Now he’s more determined than ever:

Him: What did one butt cheek say to the other butt cheek?

Me: I don’t know.

Him: Between the two of us, we can rid of this sh*t.

Me: (Shaking my head) That’s bad.

He follows me across the street and as we reach the curb he says:  What’s the greatest nation in the world?

Me: I don’t know.  I haven’t been to them all.

Him: (in one long unpunctuated sentence) doe-nation brother I’m trying to work up enough money to get a good meal can you help me out?

HAHAHAHAHA!!!  Laughing hysterically, I reach in my pocket and say to him, “That’s worth $2 my man.  That was hilarious.”  He thanks me very much as I slide my $2 into his beat up McDonald’s cup.  And off he went, probably to meet his next client. 

Okay, I gave.  But he wasn’t panhandling.  He kept pace with me for two block and told me five or six decent jokes, the last of which had me laughing for the next hour.  Think of it as a cover charge.  Notice to all the homeless:  You want anything from me, you’ve gotta play some jazz or tell a joke.