I haven't posted in awhile but I told Evil Cat a story from my past and she said I should put it down here, I am going to do a quick version that I can edit later so apologies for the poor writing style.
Warm sun on my bald spot, swatting at fly's in the heat, Well actually fending off homeless people asking for spare change, people trying to sell me the spare change newspaper and people trying to deal me drugs. What you need big guy?, Whats happening big guy? can I hook you up with something big guy? I think the only reason I did not become a raging junkie is that I hate when people call me big guy in that condescending tone. I am a big guy and I have no problem with the fat jokes and comments, but the snide, I'm your friend but only know you buy your girth ploy does not get on my good big side.
The big guy that I frequently watched was at it again, He was a "give me a dollar" dude I wouldn't call him a spanger because he never asked for spare change, he said with force and a fat tongue, Give me a dollar! and always got it.
He was an imposing man that would corner people into tight spots where they had an exit but in order to exit they had to go into his personal space and the uncomfortable arms length reach of this huge man, so no one cornered refused him his dollar. I watched this many months and never felt that anyone getting the dollar treatment really deserved me stepping in to help them, they paid their dollar, he moved his bulking mass out of the way and the transaction was done.
One day while I was sitting on the cement steps outside my apartment I saw the give me a dollar man get involved where I could not sit by and allow it to continue.
The large man cornered a young girl for his typical give me a dollar spiel, however the girl was too young to know what was happening, she broke down crying, not knowing all it took was a flash of a 1 dollar bill to get out of this. The girl could not figure out how to get past the large man. She stood with a look of terror as he came closer and closer.
I walked over and positioned myself so that the girl could have an escape she was comfortable with, she slid past me and out and I never saw her again. I turned on him, yelling at him like I was a parent scolding a child. The big guy dropped straight down on his butt to the sidewalk, sat cross legged and sobbed. He cried so hard he drooled and snot ran out his nose. This is not the response I was expecting, a punch in the nose was a good outcome I was looking for, and was expecting far worse than that. Now I wasn't sure if I wouldn't have actually preferred the punch in the nose, this was uncomfortable and made me feel pretty bad for the big guy.
He looked up at me and said sobbing "I'm Sorry, I don't mean to scare them, no one gives me money unless I do that. If I had a sign I wouldn't have to do that. I can't read or write so I can't have a sign." He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked back at me. "Will you help me make a sign?" What could I say? We went to find the materials. In the alley I found a good sturdy cardboard that was waxed so it wouldn't dissolve in the rain. I then went into my apartment and grabbed a sharpie to write with. We sat on my stoop and I asked him what he wanted it to say. He thought long on this and slowly said "spare a dollar? can't read or write, please help. God bless you"
As I wrote this in block letter he leaned way in as if it was amazing to him watching a letter be born on a page, or in this case a piece of box. He watched as I started to color in the letters and commented, "yeah, yeah, that looks good" even though he had no clue what I was writing. He was getting excited like a kid about to be handed a birthday present, he was standing with his arms outstretched waiting for the sign for several minutes before I was even done. When I finally gave it to him he never even looked up at me, he just repeated "Thank you, Thank you" over and over while staring at his sign with a big smile on his face. I patted him on the back in a way that directs someone away and off he went with his new sign.
I lived on the Ave. in the U-District for a few more years, during this time I saw the big guy almost every day sitting or standing with his sign, I never saw him be forceful or intimidating with anyone again. He moved downtown for some reason and I started seeing him regularly outside Nordstrom's or the Rack, still with his sign.
I stopped seeing the big guy, I hope something good happened to him, but unfortunately in the world of the homeless it is not generally the case. I started seeing his sign in the hands of many other homeless people, there was a whole community downtown sharing his sign, I saw it in the cement park in the hands of a crazy lady, on a street corner in the hands of a man begging for change from cars, leaned up against an empty wheelchair with a can to collect coins sat in front of it, and then one day I saw it setting propped between 2 newspaper dispensers. I looked at it and thought about what must have happened to the big guy, I felt sad, that was the last time I saw our sign.
I know he want's to eat me, I can tell by the look in his eyes. She's gotta be strong to fight them so she's taking lot's of vitamins.
Oh the inhumanity. She was selling speedboats in a trade show when it mattered. I had to fry my Zucchini, FRY it OMG! I only have fresh sour creme to dip the fried zucchini in, how will I ever survive. Not even her wrenches or secret powers could save him. My pickle meddle consisted only of.... I almost can't bear to say, only Cornichons, Asparagus, Matiz Vasco Pipparas, & Dolmas, That is it, I..I.. Don't know what to say. The apples sauce to dip my pork chops in was so sparse, it had none of the modernizations food should have, no Sugar, High Fructos Corn Syrup, Preservative, nothing. It was just plain 100% organic apples Wat Tha? #$%^. Oh and that's not all, I had to wash all this down with, get this a blended Spanish red wine, blended! 
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