Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Stoplight

During the torrential ice storm that rocked Austin's world, I was driving around town just as I wasn't supposed to. While stopped at a light, I noticed a crate resting quietly on the median where I'm sure a homeless person once stood. The crate housed four or five fast food drink cups encased in ice that overflowed from the liquid inside the cups onto the crate and then onto the pavement. As I noticed and then, in turn, stared at the frozen crate on the street, my mind began to wander. First of all, why would a homeless person have so many drinks? Maybe it was a group of homeless people. Or maybe they weren't even homeless. Maybe it was a group of those firefighters that pick an intersection and then split up asking for money to be tossed into his golash? (ha. Is that the singular for golashes? This is the first time I've ever found the need to not speak of golashes in a pair.) I have to admit that I've seen many scraggly people begging for money on the streets and instead of handing them money, more often than not, I ignored them; I checked my face in the visor mirror; I made a phone call; I looked at the car to my right as to not make eye contact to the person in need to my left. I'm that girl. Yet when the hot firefighters are asking for money, I somehow find it in my heart or wallet to give them some money. However, the dollar bills do happen to have my phone number written on them, but that never works out. I have had to change my phone number several times because I keep getting these veterans and orphans calling me and asking me out. The veterans aren't so bad, but the orphans have a mommy complex.

..That reminds me of a time when I was putting my groceries in my car in the HEB parking lot at Congress and Oltorf. As I was loading my groceries, a man who was not employed by HEB walked up to my cart and began grabbing my groceries and handing them to me and putting some in my car. In a different world, that would have been a chivalrous thing to do. But in this world, when I'm a young woman and he's a homeless man, it's not so chivalrous. I luckily only had a few left when he arrived, so I said my polite 'thank you' and was ready to jump in my car, loudly lock my doors, and get the hell out of there. Instead he began his speech, "Hi ma'am. I was just, uh, I was just wondering if you might have a dollar or sumpin' to give me." I honestly didn't have any cash, but I did have change in the ashtray in my car.
I told him, "Unless you take debit or mastercard, this is all I have." Okay I didn't say that. I just said, "I'm sorry, I don't have any cash, just change." He welcomed it and I handed him a handful of assorted change.
As I was about to shut the door, he began another speech, "Uh, hey, uh, do you think I could get your number?" Although so far he showed promise to be a fantastic boyfriend after all his chivalry, I weighed the options and decided that his lack of looks, job, home, and hygiene far outweighed his chivalry and money-begging skills.
Because I have an innate reflex to quickly be sarcastic back to someone (I have to work on that.), my first reaction was,"(smirk) uh, yeah." I could actually see his eyes widen and chest fill as he was astonished by my positive reaction.
He replied, "Really?" For some self-absorbed, evil reason, I actually thought he would have gotten that I was joking.
I quickly broke the news to him and said, "Uh, no." He deflated, thanked me and left. Let's hope he wasn't the one.

...Anyways, the crate. So then I began to ponder about who was going to pick up that crate that has since frozen to the ground. Thieves certainly aren't going to take it. It isn't of any value. If all people were geniunely good inside, then we could leave whatever we wanted on the ground and just pick it up later. "Where did I leave my guitar? Oh it's on 6th and West...I'll get it tomorrow."

"Oh look at that stereotypically-cartoon moneybag on the sidewalk...Someone may trip over it!"

"I hide my diaphragm on the onramp of North 183 coming from I-35. It's a little inconvenient when I'm in the moment, but it sure beats having anyone I don't want to finding it."

Instead of having that luxury, we must hoard and hide all of our belongings. The common criminal is like the bottom feeder of the human world. Without their assistance in "cleaning up," everyone's junk would clutter the streets! Instead of imprisoning thieves, maybe we should take this moment to thank them. I thank you, dear thief, for inspiring me to keep my valuables close, to hide what must be hidden, and to keep my money in a bank instead of on a sidewalk in front of your house.



...and then the light turned green.

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