Fiction Series

The Corner of Something and Nothing

Chapter 3 — The Street Deceiver

Cars go flying by me in a never-ending cycle. Stopping briefly when the traffic light beckons. I like to think about where they are heading. It helps me pass the time. I’ll tell ya, it gets boring out here, and lonely. Imagine that, being surrounded by hundreds of people a day and being lonely, then top it off with being freezing cold or sweltering hot depending on the season. There are no easy days out here on the streets.

Perhaps I should tell you a little bit about myself and my situation. My name is Jim and for six or seven hours each day, five days a week give or take, you can find me sitting in the median of a few of the busiest intersections in this part of the city. It’s all middle-class here. There’s no point in going anywhere else. The folks in the wealthy areas are too greedy and the ones in the slums don’t have anything to give.

I’ve always found big cities interesting when it comes to geographical layouts. You can be in the absolute filthiest part of town, go a few blocks this way or that and it’s not so bad. Then you go a few more blocks and it’s middle class and nice and a few more will find you in the richest neighborhoods. Everything is intimately connected.

Anyway, these middle-class folks are more sympathetic, I’ve found, and so it’s easier to get a handout. That’s right, I’m a panhandler. I deceive people for a living, but that’s only part of my story.

I’m not homeless, I have a nice little house. I’m not poor either. I make more money than most of the people that donate to me. I have two cars and name-brand clothes, but you wouldn’t know it to look at me out here. I’m lazy, I’ll admit, but I didn’t use to be. I’ve worked hard most of my life. Spent every minute of it on the road. I was a lumper. If ya don’t know, that’s someone who unloads tractor-trailers.

I lost my job three years ago when I injured my back and hip. The disability dried up, along with my savings account, six months later. I tried to find work for a while, but when menial labor is your only skill set and you aren’t fully healthy to boot, it’s tough to find one. Besides, no one wants to hire someone in their fifties for hard labor anyway. So, less than a year after my injury, I was on the streets panhandling.

I only meant for it to be temporary at first, I swear, but after a while, I got complacent and was making too much money. It feels good to be your own boss, so to speak in my case. I can do this anytime I want, for however long I want, and I don’t answer to anybody. My freedom has meant so much to me, especially recently.

Now, I know you probably hate me because I’m taking advantage of people and preying on their sympathy, and that’s alright. You probably should hate me. I don’t mind. I’ve gotten to the point where all I care about is my wife and me. The way I see it, people give because they want to give. I don’t run to their cars and ask them. I don’t badger them. I just sit here and whoever wants to give me something does. Most just ignore me and drive on.

I’m lazy, I admitted that already, dishonest, and no good. That’s what the majority of people think about me. Others say that panhandlers are the reason that the people that really need help don’t get it. That’s bullshit! The people that give to me will give to anyone. No one can prove I’m not homeless and in desperate need, they just assume it. The ones that don’t help me aren’t helping anybody. They use the panhandler as an excuse not to give.

Besides, not every panhandler is out here just for the sake of being out here. Walk a mile in someone’s shoes before you judge them. The bulk of the money I get goes to pay the mortgage, bills, and buy food. I also give to charity sometimes, now that I can afford to, and I help my family and friends too.

You know what else? I think, even if you give to a panhandler, and even if it’s someone who doesn’t truly need it; you didn’t know that so your heart was in the right place. If there’s a Big Man upstairs, He knows that too! Generosity and kindness don’t have to come with conditions.

Things aren’t always what they seem and times are tough all over. Some of you need to think about that and if you can’t or don’t want to help, at least don’t harm. No one is perfect!

So yep, I’m a bad person. That’s fine! You go right on hating me. You have every right to do so. In your eyes, I’ll always be the dirty, lazy old man who’s pretending to be something I’m not just so I can get a handout from hard-working people like yourself. I’m not mad at ya though. I used to be somebody and I’m still somebody. Besides, you won’t have to hate me for long. The cancer diagnosis I got six months ago will see to that!