Roger Rabbits with Jim Bunny

He was greasier than a butcher’s chopping block. Had all the patter, the eyeballing, the shredding your resistance until your hand slides involuntarily towards that $5 in your back pocket.  

“Enjoying the long weekend Sir?” Of course he wants something. Your money.  

I haven’t been called “Sir” since I strayed into a 3R – cop speak for a checkpoint. Even when you haven’t had a drop, why does the sight of a booze bus trigger a sudden, overwhelming gush of guilts.  

“That’s a pass. Enjoy your evening Sir.” 

Why’s the heart beating a tattoo? Why the shakes? Probably a ghost from past excesses and brushes with the constabulary. 

Anyhow, this is about an encounter between the “haves” and the “have nots” in a carpark. And whether to give to a beggar, or not to give. 

I scowled at him. Lower one eyebrow, raise the other, narrow the eyes, pull the mouth up under the nose, and start a slow, cynical, shaking of the head. “Am I enjoying my long weekend – why do you ask?” 

“Well, the weather’s stunning. And you appear to be a good person. Do you have any spare money?”  

Then the conscience joins the conversation. “Don’t be judgmental, give him $5 you tightwad. Show some compassion towards your fellow man.”  

That scintilla of goodwill I possess wants to help the man, but the cocky me wants to say - “Spare money? Sure! My pockets are heaving with wads of spare $100 notes and spare gold coins. I am weighed down with ‘spare.”  

And here’s the pin to my home security and safe. Have a flick through my portfolio of “spare” shares, “spare” stocks, bonds, commodities, “spare” private equities and hedge funds. They’re all “spare.” 

The conscience starts banging on again. “Don’t ignore the man blockhead. Engage, communicate, respect. Do unto others…..” 

But he was all flattery and fake, and manipulative, making me feel privileged, mean-spirited, and uncaring. If he used those skills in a positive and productive way, he wouldn’t need a buck from me. I will just say no thank you. 

Conscience: “Don’t you just sense the air of tiredness and defeatedness about homeless people.” 

Now I am feeling bad. But if I did slip him some “spare” I probably wouldn’t be helping. I read that for every dollar give to beggars, the more lucrative we make begging, and the less appealing and lucrative we make working for a living. 

And begging is good coin. One beggar was observed for a time. About one in six passersby gave money, and if each one of them gave 50 cents and 10 to 15 people passed every minute, they’d make 50 to 70 dollars an hour.  

Note to self – is it too late for a career change?  

With that in mind, I fought my instincts to give my beggar a coin and just lied to him. 

“I don’t carry cash.”   

“Not many people do these days,” he smiled. His understanding was exceeded only by his niceness. “I am sure that on another day, if you had a coin your pocket, you would have gladly given it to me. I just sense that.” A pauper with panache.   

He wants me to believe his car is out of gas. “Where is your car?” “Over there,” he says waving his arms at all points east to west. In fact, the car is over nowhere. I suggest I take him to the petrol station and he suggests back that it would be easier for everyone if I just gave him the money. “Don’t want to bother you further.”   

Conscience speaks up yet again: “He wants cash for whatever his need is at this particular moment. A $5 note isn’t going to fix his life, but it might give him some temporary pleasure, some relief from a sad existence.”  

And, by the way... “It’s not your responsibility to police how he spends the money. It’s your responsibility to be a good human being. Show some generosity. He gets what he wants, and you get to feel good about yourself.” 

On the other hand, a London based homeless charity says handing over money to beggars can have consequences because, it claims, 80 percent of people begging do so to support substance abuse. And the spending of the begged dollars can severely interfere with the good work its teams do in the field.   

I have just used 760 words agonising over gifting $5 to a beggar. I wish I gave every $5 I spend the same consideration. Needless to say, beggarman got his $5, he was delighted and I felt like a good human for a while.