Near Midnight Meanie
was walking by on top of a bridge in perth a few months ago when the paternal decided to use the restroom and i waited nearby with the maternal. a young boy, shorter than little short me just left the restroom. he could be ten, he could be thirteen, didnt’ matter, his eyes said he could all be eighteen. he’s got a backpack and a piercing on his ear.
“can i get a dollar?” he inquired to my mother, kid hadn’t even break his puberty vocal.
my mother turned to me.
“sorry, haven’t got any,” i replied, looking around.
“i just need a dollar for the train fare,” he said again.
i shrugged, “don’t have any.”
“ya,” he answered with a certain annoying melody.
“nope, sorry…” i stood my ground.
“ya,” sing-songed the kid with no singing upon any kind of song.
“wha…?”
“yahhh, ya you have,” kid went again, a little bit more accusingly.
i shrugged again. i kinda pitied the rude kid. but a friend of mine once told me that a lot of people ask others for money on the street to buy some booze or drugs or stuff. i was just practising caution. but ended up looking like i was this little inhumane mutha-flippin’ son of a witch.
the kid took off and approached a ticket machine. my father exited the restroom and we walked towards the other end of the bridge, and had to pass the kid again in the process.
“excuse me, sir. can i get a dollar?” he asked my father.
my father looked to me, and i anwered back, “no, he hasn’t got any.”
“i was asking him, not you,” kid said.
“tough luck…” i mumbled.
it’s just a dollar, i told myself. it’s not like he’d be able to start an underground illegal substance network with that kind of money. or even purchase firearms to rob some banks. for all you know, he might be trying to return home to his faily or something.
but he could use the money to get on a train to meet “the man” and start this organ black market operation. honey, the possibilities are endless, another side reminded me.
in times like these, i really wish that i could be a better judge of character. level-headedness has not been a quality of mine lately. and so is reasoning. is it so insane to be so paranoid most of the time?
November 11th, 2008 at 7:42 pm
lol. i once gave 5 bucks to some random stranger who said he hadn’t eaten for 2 days or something. now when i think of it again he actually didn’t look like he had been starving. should’ve asked more questions to decide whether he was good enough to earn that 5 bucks.
next time i’ll try saying “but you don’t look like you’ve been starving for days!” and “you look ok, just a bit worn out from the look of your face” and “where’s your family?” and “where do you live?” and even “i don’t believe you” when i meet this kind of person. you should be able to tell whether he’s lying by the end of the conversation.
.. coz i don’t feel right saying ’sorry i don’t have any’ when i actually do.
November 12th, 2008 at 2:35 am
I’d not give him any money, just because he gave me attitude about it. Good luck getting pity money with that kind of attitude, kid.
On a midnight trip to the supermarket…
“Do you have two dollars? I need to get a condom”
*shocked* “Sorry?”
“Umm… do you have two dollars? I need to get home…”
ps. I love this part so much: “his eyes said he could all be eighteen”
November 12th, 2008 at 5:49 pm
but i really didn’t have a dollar, i spent my last coins at a food court some times before buying a soda, heh heh heh. and mind you, it was not the crowdest of bridge and i was kinda afraid that he’s got some stooges somewhere watching xP
and i could totally imagine you acting *shocked* d. if he/she wanna score some, he/she should totally back it up with their own dough
November 13th, 2008 at 8:34 am
don’t worry sheepeh, been there, and i wasn’t as smart as u were back then. gave the dude a dollar and regretted it later on upon seeing him courting another victim. oh, and it happened in perth too. moral of the story: don’t give out free money in perth
November 16th, 2008 at 7:15 am
this happened to me once too, nez. so i sympathize with you. =)
once upon a time, a suspicious-looking lady approached me at caulfield plaza and asked me for money to buy food, or so she said. she didn’t sound anywhere near legit, and i totally ignored her at first ‘cuz she also didn’t look like she was starving or something to me. d-duh, go figure. i mean, where did the handbag, or the expensive-looking top, or the sunnies, all come from?
but then she continued to bug me and followed me inside the plaza, all the while still begging me to give her some money, doing so repetitively and incomprehensibly that by the time we both reached the entrance to coles, she had sounded like she was eerily chanting some sort of a give-me-money-or-else-i’ll-send-a-troop-of-cockroaches-to-your-house-at-midnight kinda curse or something. and it did terrify me a bit. i mean she was just being plain ridiculous. dodgy, much? pretty much, yeah.
and for the sake of shaking her off my tail, i finally decided that it would be much easier for both of us if i just gave her two dollars, in the hopes of shutting her up. and boy was i right. as soon as i tossed her the gleaming, minuscule-sized dollar coin, she stormed off immediately, completely forgetting even the slightest form of gratitude. she didn’t even look back. all she left me was mere traces of a dismissive grunt that i wasn’t even sure existed at all.
she made me wonder if i was doing the right thing by deciding to give her the money. i mean, yeah, two bucks is not much; won’t even buy me a cup of decent coffee. but it’s not the value that matters. courtesy, common sense, even safety. i dunno.
this issue intrigues me just as much as it does you. =(