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So I realized, after I got panhandled on my own door stoop again last night, that the only extended conversations I have ever had with anyone in my neighborhood are with people who are grilling me for money. I’m not sure you understand how difficult it is to believe in your fellow man when he won’t stop asking for money you clearly do not have. I didn’t earn the money I have and I have absolutely no desire to have you “earn it” for me, so please don’t offer. I hate buying what you’re selling because it neither benefits the two of us nor makes me feel better about my actions. It’s entirely possible that you are actually employed but prudence has taught many a panhandler victim that you could just as easily be smoking crack with your girlfriend (this is not a generalization, but rather something that the gentleman last night discussed, something that truly pisses me off because of his vagueness and how this woman apparently stole his money and his cell phone. I certainly hope she is no longer his girlfriend). Also, if you have a job, how the hell is it that you have the audacity to ask me for $20 when even the people who are unemployed only ask for quarters?

I think it’s even more depressing that I’m sequestered in a part of town where even my own friends won’t visit me. I don’t know any locals (perhaps with the exception of the guy I met last night who would literally not leave until my roommate and I could scrounge together $12) and there appears to be zero night life in our area. I’ve done research; there is one bar and it’s not even bigger than some of the bodegas here.  Something that is supposed to be charitable has never been so frustrating or disgusting. I don’t mean disgusting as a description of his person, just the feeling that I am simply a meal- or sock- or transportation-ticket to someone.

This experience made me feel like nothing more than a broken ATM and hopefully I will never see those two gentlemen again because chances are very, very good I will call the cops. I do not ever want to feel as terrible as they have made me feel and I refuse to talk to them again. If that requires the cops, then so be it.

In related news, I shall be spending the next week at national monuments and local museums and will not be sitting on the stoop for quite some time. You know how to get in touch with me. Good morrow.


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