Friday evening, a knock on the door. Young man, clean, normal looking, starts this high speed spiel about how he works landscaping, has a job, wound up at (my old) hospital overnight, (pulls up his shirt) shows me something he wants me to think is a medical procedure evidence, shows me his arms and gums and assures me he's not on drugs... .
I say, gently but clearly amused at the obvious scam, "Wow, that's a lotta story you got there."
Which doesn't even slow him down. I start to close the door, and he begs for some work he could do for a few bucks, and more story and excuses. The door closes on him, quietly.
I shake the interaction off, and see him walk away. Like I'd trust him to do work on my home? Just an aggressive beg, a sob story. Someone really in trouble would have been given a social worker at the hospital, and I don't know what he thought was on his abdomen that would look like any procedure I've ever heard of. Nor would I have thought to ask about drugs, except that he made such a point of it. But I could see how an inexperienced and susceptible soul would get swamped by the flow of babble, and reward him with cash. If only to make him go away. But I'm not buying indulgences, and I won't reward flim-flam. A faint fear of retribution taints the air.
Last night, another young man is standing right at the porch, looking up. I wandered out, asking what he was looking for. He had a pen camera, and tells me he likes my prayer flags, and asks if I'm Buddhist. I say no, but I like the idea of prayer flags, and tell them where I got them - a local shop. He slowly wandered off. More than a little weird, but I think I mostly believe him.
It's true, I'm not a Buddhist, nor a Taoist, not Christian nor any other religionist. I pick a bit here that speaks to me, another thought there that makes sense, but I refuse to take in the whole culture, dogma, and ritual of any belief system. What I take in, I treat with reverence. Well, except for the glow-in-the-dark BVM, but since that was the faith shoved down my throat as a child, that's pretty mild mockery.
Pleasantness has grown in my life, still doesn't make me a sap.
4 comments:
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you never know what someone's story is. i figure with poverty on the rise, hungry people are everywhere.
if you'd had some outside work he could have done alongside you it wouldn't have made you a sap to let him earn a few dollars for honest work.
you know, outside. where he can't steal stuff. or see if your computer is worth stealing.
a long time ago some local urchins wanted to wash my car for a dollar. i said i didn't need my car washed, but i had five dollars for each of them if they wanted to weed my front walk.
they said it sounded like too much work.
flask,
Yeah, but he had a handful of stories, seeing which one would click with me.
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