Convenient Generosity

One day recently, I stopped in my coffee haunt, our local Bad Ass Coffee Company, where I almost always get tea. I like to be different. Plus, my wife and son tell me that coffee gives me "dragon breath."

There was a medium crowd in the place as I walked in. The owner of a nearby auto repair shop was pointing at a guy lounging on a sofa. Mr. Auto Repair whispered to the girl behind the counter, "If I were you, I'd call the cops." I glanced back at the sofa. The guy on the sofa appeared to be guilty of being homeless. It appeared that he'd taken some effort to get and stay clean, but he had that weather-weary look about him, and a backpack alongside. The weather outside was miserable, with half rain, half slushy snow. The guy sat there, taking refuge from the weather, trying to be invisible.

People were giving Mr. Homeless a clear zone of sorts. I grabbed my tea and entered the clear zone, sitting at a table about three feet from the guy. He looked at me nervously. I'm tall, and as I get older, I've been told that I look like a cop. I liked it better when people told me that I looked like a cross between Tom Selleck and John Ritter, even if they were lying. But, I don't have enough hair for that anymore, and besides, John Ritter is dead. I hope he's having a good time with Tex.

About twenty years ago, still during my single daze, a young woman in a bar told me that I looked like a cross between Tom Selleck and a chipmunk. An amorous adventure did not follow.

Anyway, I can be a bit of a bleeding heart. Rush Limbaugh would probably think me stupid for feeling sorry for all those lazy, good-for-nothing homeless bums. I'll just have to live with that. Once, on an airline flight, I talked with a guy who'd once been a homeless advocate in his town. He said that he got out of it out of frustration, because "half of those bastards are just pulling a scam." Maybe so, but even if that's true, that means that half of 'em aren't.

I have a generous streak, but I can be a selfish jerk with my time. I thought about buying the guy a coffee and some food, but I really wanted to spend time with my laptop, not in conversation. I decided that I'd do my morning blog roundup, check email, then buy the guy something when I left. That way, I could stay in my little sphere of privacy, and avoid the dagger eyes I guessed I'd get from about half of the patrons.

A twenty-something guy walked into the place. He carried himself with a subtle confidence, and something about him let on that he was a child of affluence, despite his neo-hippy long hair and faux-funky attire. He grabbed a coffee, and looked for a place to sit. He chose a seat about four feet from the homeless guy, and checked him out. After a few moments, he asked, "Are you traveling?" "Yeah, I'm on the road."

I finished answering an email, all the while overhearing their conversation. The young guy was asking the homeless guy questions, finding common ground, making the homeless man feel like he belonged, like he was there.

I'd volunteered to help out in one of my son's classes, and it was time to go. I gathered up my stuff and visited the restroom. As I left the restroom, I could see a difference in the homeless man. He sat more erect, he was smiling, and there was a light in his eyes. I walked up and gave him some money. "Really?" I chuckled. "Yeah, really. Take care of yourself."

I walked out and drove away. As I entered Lake Boulevard, I glanced through the windows of the coffee place. The young guy and the homeless man were laughing. For just a moment, as I drove away, I laughed with them.