Here, Have A Dollar

I invited myself to my friend’s house for Thanksgiving dinner. I just kind of told her to set a place for me at the table and then sealed the deal by making wide and watery eyes. It’s ignorant I know, but that’s just how I roll, especially when the “man” won’t give you the day after Thanksgiving off so one can’t sojourn to see their own family. But anyways, the family is gathered around the table, holding hands, thinking about their greens to sweet potato ratios (or maybe that was just me) and the patriarch starts to give thanks. Something is said about blessings, and joy, and then the homeless man he sees everyday on his way to work asking for change. And I just lost it. No I didn’t start weeping, that would have been too much like right, instead I start laughing, uncontrollably, during a prayer, at someone else’s house…

Will Amaretto even be able to get her big toe through the door next year? Imma try…stay tuned folks.

But in my defense, I laughed because he used the word of the day “Homeless”. No, I don’t think homelessness is a laughing matter, but his prayer made me think of my own homeless crew I see on my way to work every morning. Sometimes it's comforting to have certain routines. It makes life a little bit more manageable before it makes it boring. So yeah, I enjoy some aspects of my daily grind, like starting my day with a Mickey D’s sweet tea. 32 ounces for one dollar! Hollar! It is that serious ya’ll-to me it’s like nectar from Heaven (cue angelic chorus). So much so, that one morning the paramedics were tending to a man who had slipped and fallen in front of the door-he was bleeding and everything-and I was telling EMTs to excuuuuse me as they tried to maneuver the gurney. But my trek to get my tea also includes being asked on my way into Mickey D’s and out if I have any spare change. Change to spare. Could I help a brother out? You know just hearing requests similar to Bellini’s tale.

And everyday, as politely as possible, as I sip on my straw, I say no. I mean these are some persistent and consistent, and I’m also going to say, annoying folks. It’s slightly funny to me, ergo why I was laughing at Thanksgiving, because it’s like the homeless didn’t get the memo that no one carries cash anymore.

I know it’s messed up on my part to say someone needs to school the homeless, but hey, 1993 it is not so-Cash Rules Everything Around Me-is no longer a true statement. Ya’ll have seen those Visa commercials where the people are moving and spending by swiping their cards and joyous music plays in the background…but the moment someone pulls out cash or a check the wheels on the machine stop moving. I mean I won’t tell you the shame I personally felt pulling out a check at the grocery store after my checkcard was stolen. The looks I got were enough to make a girl cry and voluntarily explain why I had the audacity to pick up my checkbook…aside from the fact that check writing allows you to get, even when you don’t have the money in your account just yet... But still, when did checks and cash stop being negotiable instruments?

I will say that sometimes I feel bad about not being able to spare change. I mean it’s not like I don’t have it. I’ve got some money, even after the bank takes my leftover change and puts it into a savings account so they can pay for wars and make investments while giving me .002 percent interest. I want to help people out. But it would just be too ignorant to tell a homeless person that I could hook them up, but only if they took Visa.

Happy April Fools Day!

See You in Seven