Who's the bum?

I actually managed to get out of the house early today, without the aid of any sort of hostage negotiations. Go figure.

I wasn't having a good morning mood-wise, for reasons I won't get into at this time. So I swung by Burger King for my "I know I shouldn't eat this for breakfast but I am stressing out so I am going to" croissant with egg & cheese, OJ, and Coke. Mmm, yeah, that would be I put on weight over the past year! I went through the drive-through, then pulled around the front of the restaurant, and opened it up to make sure they didn't put anything stupid like sausage on it.

So there I was in my car in the middle of the (freezing cold covered with icy ruts) parking lot unwrapping my sandwich and I realized a homeless man was pushing a shopping cart along the narrow lane that I would need to use to get out of the parking lot.

He looked to be about my father's age, around 65. I can't really describe him other than to say, he was bundled up for winter in a knit hat and warm coat, pushing a shopping cart containing what I imagined were his meager belongings. I was almost confused, in a way, because I normally don't really see anyone around the immediate area where I live who appears to be homeless. It's a low to middle income quiet sort of little town, a 20 minute ride on the highway to "the city". While I was looking at him, he pushed the cart through the deep snow and icy ruts, and then waved at me.

I guess he thought I was waiting to let him get through that area. Great -- then I felt guilty, because I had only paused in the lot so that I could shove (14 million weightwatchers points, but who's counting, worth of) food into my mouth while I drove in my nice warm car to my cushy little office job. If I hadn't been in a hurry to get at that sandwich I probably would have almost accidentally run him over.

Then the real anxiety set in. Did he eat today? Yesterday? Should I give him money? How much? Should I give him the sandwich (no bites out of it yet) so that he would eat and not buy booze? I claim to be religious, shouldn't I be feeding the poor and the hungry? What about all of those bible passages about "when you see the poor and needy I am there," etc?? If I offered him something would he be grateful? Angry? What if the guy was unhinged and clocked me for trying to give him a handout? What to do?

While I was paralyzed by indecision, he went on his way past me.

There are times when I wish I were a man. Not for sexual reasons, but to avoid fear. A man has less to fear in this world from the opposite sex ~ men don't live with the need to consider every female they meet a potential threat to their physical well being until proven otherwise. Men I don't know make me nervous if I am alone. Chalk it up to various life experiences, my own and those of ones near and dear to me. Now, maybe this is not the typical attitude of all women, I will grant you that. Most men probably would not have been nervous giving him something. Of course, some men wouldn't BOTHER giving him something, but others at least would not be afraid.

If I were a man, I could have - I WOULD have - parked the car, taken him inside, and bought eggs, coffee, fries, whatever he wanted. I wish I were a man.

There was another issue, off to the side, that I don't really deal with on a day to day basis. Someday my brother may be that man. He works in random bluecollar jobs from time to time, quits when it suits him, and cultivates the reputation of "loner." He isolates himself from people, and refuses to make plans for the future, set goals, or look to the day when he is older and not able to work. When the money is almost gone, he looks for another job. After a while, the pattern repeats itself.

So I sat there, paralyzed by indecision and anxiety, and the guilt. This is someone's brother, perhaps, and it was RIGHT in front of me to be able to help this person in just a small way. I could have made him so happy for a few moments. But I was afraid.

Finally, fear won. While I sat there trying to figure out what to do, he just continued on his way, and then I went to work. The entire day, I felt the sadness of an opportunity that had slipped away.