Krispy Kreme Poverty
This afternoon we stopped by Krispy Kreme on Route 1 after a hard morning of shopping for stoves. As the husband parked, a portly man in ratty athletic shoes was crossing the parking lot and talking to a carload of well-dressed black ladies.
When we exited, he sidled up to my husband and started in with a pitch about how bad the economy was how he needed help in providing for his two girls, and could we help him out. I managed to keep walking, being a pro at dodging the poor (whom Jesus instructs us to give to, I know) but the better half was netted. "Sure," he says, "I can spare a dollar for you." Then he handed him a dollar.
The man said thanks, and started to follow us into the Krispy Kreme. As we walked, he said, "You all are Christians, right?"
"Oh good God no," the husband replies.
I really enjoyed that.
The fellow proceeded to panhandle the customers inside. We sat at the front picture window which looks out on Route 1. On previous occasions, we had been entertained by watching a hooker ply her trade out front, and take her prizes across the highway to the Alexandria Hotel. I assume she had a room there.
Just before we left, I watched the panhandler cross the highway over to the Alexandria Hotel and go into the office. So, was he going to panhandle the office manager, was he the office manager on a coffee break, or was he begging enough money to buy a hooker?
We may never know.
When we exited, he sidled up to my husband and started in with a pitch about how bad the economy was how he needed help in providing for his two girls, and could we help him out. I managed to keep walking, being a pro at dodging the poor (whom Jesus instructs us to give to, I know) but the better half was netted. "Sure," he says, "I can spare a dollar for you." Then he handed him a dollar.
The man said thanks, and started to follow us into the Krispy Kreme. As we walked, he said, "You all are Christians, right?"
"Oh good God no," the husband replies.
I really enjoyed that.
The fellow proceeded to panhandle the customers inside. We sat at the front picture window which looks out on Route 1. On previous occasions, we had been entertained by watching a hooker ply her trade out front, and take her prizes across the highway to the Alexandria Hotel. I assume she had a room there.
Just before we left, I watched the panhandler cross the highway over to the Alexandria Hotel and go into the office. So, was he going to panhandle the office manager, was he the office manager on a coffee break, or was he begging enough money to buy a hooker?
We may never know.