Panhandling

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A friend and I were walking through a downtown area when the topic of panhandling came up. We had been hit up for sidewalk tolls several times, as seems to be routine in any major city these days. I wondered aloud what unconscious guideline dictated my own response to these solicitations, what subtle gesture would spur me to capitulate and cough up some money and what strategic error from the requester would yield a cold look and unbroken stride. Was I more or less giving now than when I was younger? (More, I think.) Was I more likely to give to someone walking around, or someone who has taken up residence on a blanket with a clever sign and a dog by his side? (The walker, it seems.) Does having a $1 coin in common circulation increase how much you’re likely to donate to a panhandler? (Yeah, totally.)

After idly talking about this for a couple of blocks, my friend reached into her purse and gathered some change. “Has all this talk made you feel guilty?”, I asked. “Yeah, I think so,” she said. “I’m going to give this to that guy across the street.” As the light changed and we started crossing the intersection, I spotted the guy she meant, an older man with a dilapidated mustache and wizened skin. He was holding a paper cup in front of his chest and watching the sidewalk traffic. “Here you are,” she said as she dropped her change in his cup. I noted more of a “splish” sound, as opposed to the expected rattle of change. “That was my drinking water”, the man said quietly.

She said a mortified “I’m sorry” and we tried to move along as quickly as possible. In the future, perhaps a key factor should be whether the person actually asks for any money.

2 thoughts on “Panhandling

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