Heaven, is this heaven, where we are?
The other night, I was in a deli buying beer. (Because all I do lately is drink, but that’s another story.) And as I made my way to the register with my 6-pack, I noticed that in front of me was a homeless man, dirty and bedraggled, counting out a huge pile of change to pay for who knows what. Frankly, I wasn’t interested. At the moment, all I could think was, “Great, this is going to take fucking forever,” as I shifted back and forth impatiently on my feet.
And then I checked myself, and acknowledged a painful stab of guilt in my gut.
“You are such an asshole, man,” I said to myself. “You can hold onto your $9-worth of beer for two minutes, for which you will hand over a ten-dollar bill without even a second thought, while this poor man, whose life is infinitely harder than yours, in ways you could never even begin to imagine, takes the time to count out his handfuls of change and pay for something that just might keep him alive another day.”
“Ok, you’re right,” I thought. “I should just chill. In fact, if I were a decent human being, I’d offer to pay for this man’s purchase along with my own.”
But as I stood there contemplating this, the cashier noticed me waiting to pay, pushed the man’s piles of change aside and reached over to take my beer, collect my money, and send me on my way. Clearly, in the hierarchy of paying customers, the home-ful take priority over the home-less.
As he reached for my beer, I wanted to be like, “No, that’s ok, I’ll wait my turn. Finish helping this gentleman.”
But of course I didn’t. No. I paid for my beer, hightailed it out of there, and proceeded to get quickly and comfortably drunk.
And then I checked myself, and acknowledged a painful stab of guilt in my gut.
“You are such an asshole, man,” I said to myself. “You can hold onto your $9-worth of beer for two minutes, for which you will hand over a ten-dollar bill without even a second thought, while this poor man, whose life is infinitely harder than yours, in ways you could never even begin to imagine, takes the time to count out his handfuls of change and pay for something that just might keep him alive another day.”
“Ok, you’re right,” I thought. “I should just chill. In fact, if I were a decent human being, I’d offer to pay for this man’s purchase along with my own.”
But as I stood there contemplating this, the cashier noticed me waiting to pay, pushed the man’s piles of change aside and reached over to take my beer, collect my money, and send me on my way. Clearly, in the hierarchy of paying customers, the home-ful take priority over the home-less.
As he reached for my beer, I wanted to be like, “No, that’s ok, I’ll wait my turn. Finish helping this gentleman.”
But of course I didn’t. No. I paid for my beer, hightailed it out of there, and proceeded to get quickly and comfortably drunk.
posted by P/O at 5/22/2006 12:35:00 PM
4 Comments:
Congratulations...you're officially a New Yorker.
ah yes, second to that. so the both of us have been drinking a lot lately. :)
At least your intentions were good. =)
A blogger that uses a 10,000 Maniacs lyric as a title. I think I am going to like it here.
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