Lies, The Homeless, and All Around Conviction

The other day I lied to a homeless man. And he caught me. He caught me lying. The story:

I live right on the edge of where Baton Rouge ghetto evolves into Baton Rouge hippieville (I know, what a corney name, but I could think of nothing else). I live in poverty. It is not uncommon to get asked by meandering homeless for change. Not uncommon = every day. At first I felt the pressure, I would fish around in my pockets and whatever I had I would give them. "God bless, man. Thank you so much. God bless." And I would feel pretty damn good about myself.

And then the next day they'd ask again. And I didn't quite feel like giving up my money. Especially when they are holding a nalgene bottle half-filled with dark liquid with a foamy head on it.

Side-story: I once walked out of a restaurant close to campus holding a to-go box of my leftover red beans and rice. A homeless man approached, rather staggered. "Hey, can I get some change for something to eat." And here I was holding something to eat. "I don't have any change, but here is something to eat."

"What is it?"

"Red beans and rice." I opened it to reveal the still-warm pile of food.

"Naw, I don't eat red beans and rice." He turned down the offer for free food. I thought beggars weren't supposed to be choosers. He went on to tell me a few other items that he doesn't eat like speghetti and creamed corn. I told him, "I guess you aren't that hungry then."

This raises a whole series of questions concerning the ethics of how to deal with the homeless when they are asking you for your money. Do you give it to them regardless? Is it your responsibility to know what they are going to do with the money? Should we not give it if we know we are contributing to unhealthy habits of theirs? Or is that not even an issue - as if we can hold out our money only if we are assured they are going to use it in the way that we want them to?

I have chosen not to give any more change to the homeless. And I stopped saying that I didn't have any when I knew that I did. I started saying, "I'm sorry, I can't help you."

But the other day, I didn't say that. I got into my car, which was parked out behind this coffee shop I frequent (the very coffee shop I am writing this from now). I got in, started it and was approached by a homeless man (wearing a gold necklace by the way). "Hey can I get some change?"

"Sorry, I don't have any."

Then he looked down at my console and saw the plastic cup that I have in there filled with change. Filled. He pointed at it with a sense of betrayal and questioned, "What's that then?"

I glanced down at it, shot a look back up to him and uttered out an apology and drove away as quickly as I could. And the conviction lingered with me for days. It still does. Because after all, here I am writing about it.

I think the best solution is to ask them for change before they can ask you. This turns the tables a bit. I'd like to see them squirm for an appropriate response for once. What would they say? Would they lie? You know they have change. Would they say they didn't? Would they say, "Sorry, I can't help you?" Would they simply laugh? Or would they actually give some of it up?

Maybe I could learn to live off of other people's pocket change. Heaven knows they do. And they still find extra money for gold necklaces, cigarettes, beer, magic markers (to write on their little cardboard signs), and food preferences. This doesn't seem too bad at all.