Woes of Sparing Copper

Like any large populated city, you’ve got your run of the mill homeless people stationed at various locations along busy thoroughfares. Reliable areas that constantly have beggars coming up to cars with cardboard signs: “Hungry and homeless, God Bless”.

I’m wishy-washy on the homeless issue. On one hand I sympathize with their need. At the same time, I’ve seen the same people begging on the same street corner for five years. I give money out to those who seem to be in a bad bind, hoping to see a turnaround wrought by my handful of quarters. 99% of the time you’re feeding a drug addiction, someone who thinks it’s their job to beg. They’re not getting a job, they’re perfectly content, they’re getting what they need by begging on the street. You offer certain people leftover burgers and they look at you like you’ve just cursed at them.

Louie told me once about a homeless guy that had Taylor in his clutches. Taylor, empathetic to the core, saw a homeless guy sitting outside of a nearby grocery store in Dinkytown one New Years Day (I hope I’m getting this right). He offered to bring the guy up into his apartment and have some macaroni and cheese. The man took him up on this request and had lunch with Taylor.

Taylor saw the man on the same corner begging and again offered him some food. The man took it.

Pretty soon the man started showing up at the apartment, begging for food. Adri and Louie would wake up and find him sleeping outside on a couch perched on their balcony. The man even showed up during a sexual romp one of the guys was having with their girlfriend, peeking through the window to watch until they got up and looked for the peeping tom.

Adri had to yell at him after finding him outside on the couch, “Stay away from here!” He stopped showing up soon after. Taylor extended his hand to help someone in need . . . but it turns out he wasn’t in need, he was in want. My view is that if someone doesn’t turn their life around, they are not mentally handicapped, and they stay in the same rut day after day, they WANT that lifestyle. There are jobs. Yes, the economy is bad, jobs aren’t hiring . . . but still. If I see a lazy homeless person, persistent in their corner, they’re not getting any cash from me.

Now, granted, there are the mentally handicapped, the ones who just plain NEED money. In that case, I would want to give money to someone and escort them to the nearest shelter. One man used to come to my current house, saying he just got out of jail and needed five bucks to go to the shelter. He once fixed Louie's porch in return for ten bucks. He felt like he could come back. He got me. I gave him a couple bucks. He literally asked me if I had any more. I said, "No, sorry."

He kept showing up. Just got out of rehab the next time, asking for fifteen dollars. I said I didn't have it. He needed to stay in the shelter again. He offered to walk with me to the nearest ATM to take out money. Granted, this was at 12:30am. I was going to bed. I said sorry.

He came again another night. At 2:30am!!!! I finally started to yell. "I don't have anything, and if you come around here again I'm getting the cops! You had your chance." He started to yell, "Just a little bit, man!" I said, "No." He said, "C'MON!" I said simply, "No." And shut the door on him.

Apparently, Taylor also encountered him. At 3:00am. He woke me up pounding on the front door but I didn't answer it. Taylor did instead.

Fucking asshole.

There are panhandlers in Chicago who actually live in the suburbs, travel downtown to play their instrument, and make $100,000 a year panhandling. They WANT that lifestyle. Granted, they’re doing something they love, playing, performing. But I’m pretty sure most homeless people don’t love hand extensions, asking for money, and spreading Christian virtues. They’re lazy.

Today, I had just bought McDonald’s, and I was driving home eating french fries. I was stopped near the Walker, where a homeless guy had “Hungry and Homeless” written on a cardboard sign. I realized he may have just seen me take a handful of fries and stuff them into my mouth, and I started laughing. It was a strange situation. I felt both guilty and angry. I hid my McDonald’s bag underneath my arm, hoping he didn’t see me scarf down my junk food. The light turned green before he reached my car and I continued laughing from the sheer weirdness of it all. Maybe I was having an influx of different emotions, and I chose laughter as my way out of the cluster of thoughts.

Another time I was in a McDonald's, some guy came up to me and said, "Hey, you're Rob, right? From Dinkytown. I helped you fix that boat."

I have never owned and/or fixed a boat in my life. I said "No, I have a card." He said, "Man, just a little to take the bus over the hill." I was thinking "What hill?! There's no hill except the bridge over the Mississippi down the street. Fucking walk, jerk!" I said "No" to him.

I thought giving him McDonald’s or a dollar may not have helped in the first place. I’ve lost faith in the homeless. God does not bless a man giving another drug money, and I can’t tell the honest hands from the bad anymore.

Autolux -- "Subzero Fun"