an open letter to the madison hobo association
Dear State Street Beggars,Look, I'm sorry that I don't give out spare change like...well, like I have change to spare. Really, I am. But making catcalls (such as telling me what parts of me you'd like to "play with") isn't going to make me want to stop, turn around, and magically procure some change from the depths of my wallet. Maybe this just makes me a horrible person, but that sort of thing only makes me want to run away faster.
Thanks, though, for cementing my desire to stay in at night and catch up on my TiVO backlog.
Jim and Pam are totally real,
Me.
Labels: hobos, madison, the office
posted by Dangerous Mind @ 23:36
1 Comments:
Oh yeah, last night I was walking down State Street with my girl, and we passed by the transient pandhandler of the day. He asked us for money, we kept talking about whatever we were talking about. He's like "Oh I understand, y'all are racists."
Now, I'm about the whitest looking black man you'll ever meet, so I understand how people get confused. But to straight up call us racists for not giving him money? Also not an effective means of getting sympathy.
That jackass is just lucky he didn't get a throwing star to the temple for his troubles. Then, as I removed the throwing star and took it back (because, after all, there is no charity here) I would have kindly explained to him it was not due to any self-hating racial issues, just the fact that he was a complete asshole.
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